Cottage Fever
by Daughter of the Black
Summary: The winter of 1811 was perilously and unexpectedly cold. The roads became impassable and neighbors leaned on each other to bear the barren winter. The Winter of 1811 found Netherfield Park occupied for Christmas. Holiday fic 2012.
1. Frozen

Disclaimer: I do not own Pride & Prejudice, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar.

* * *

_27 November, 1811_

As the residents of England slumbered in their beds, feet worn from dancing, bellies full of rich pies and meats, and heads light with spirits and love, the sky split open and soft white flakes tumbled down. They drifted and twisted in the midnight dark sky frosting over the long strands of grasses and melting slightly as they hit the roads. The frost became a coat, and the coat became a layer, and the layer kept growing as the chill in the air set.

When the first creatures stretched to wakefulness they were met by the endlessness of the white fields. The whiteness covered everything. The bramble, the trees, the animal dens, the roads, the ponds and streams, everything was hidden beneath the thick blanket of snow.

* * *

Elizabeth rested the pads of her fingers on the chilly glass of her bedroom window. She'd woken to James, Hill's husband, organizing the stable-hands into clearing the doors of snow. The petite brunette couldn't help the little smile that broke free; it had been several years since winter had come so early or so strongly. She remembered fondly the days when she could goad Jane into a romp through the snow, the scolding that would follow, and the red noses and hot soup. Retracting her hand to the safety of her nightgown Elizabeth danced backwards on her toes. No matter how the day went nothing could slow her joy.

"Lizzy," came the sharp voice of Mrs. Bennet, "Lizzy dress warmly! This snow will have us catching our deaths!"

A quick sigh and soft huff of laughter found Lizzy dressing as quickly as she could. It was cold; it had been warmer the night before. It had been so warm that she had worn short sleeves to Bingley's ball. The ball where she had danced with _him_, and Mr. Collins, the other _him._ Oh, but Jane, Jane had been so happy, Elizabeth had been so happy for her sister.

Just as Elizabeth pulled on her shawl her door banged open and Lydia bounced through the opening, "Did you hear!"

"Hear what," Elizabeth asked as she slid on her shoes.

Lydia huffed and flopped down on her older sister's bed. "The militia has gone! I am terribly heart-broken!"

A grimace flashed across the older girl's face, her dark hazel eyes narrowed slightly before relaxing. "Oh and why have they left?"

Lydia smirked, rolling over and mussing the covers, "La! I think I know why you want to know, Lizzy! _Mr. Wickham_."

"Lydia," Elizabeth spoke more sharply than she meant to. "Finish speaking."

"Well," Lydia sat up, threading her fingers through her dark brown curls, "Hill had it from Nelly, the maid at the tavern that Colonel Forster ordered the men up at the first hour of daylight to go away!"

Elizabeth inhaled slowly, measuredly, "And why have they gone away?"

"I don't care! I only came to tell you that they aren't _here_, Lizzy," Lydia pouted for a moment before throwing herself off the bed and out of Lizzy's room.

Sighing deeply, Elizabeth firmed her resolve to be joyful. It was the first snow of the season. Something, however, was determined to prevent the resolve from being held as Jane hurried into her room.

"Oh Lizzy," Jane sighed, her soft smile cracking into a grin. "I am so happy, I hardly slept!"

"I think that you must be very sick in love," Elizabeth teased gently, reaching forward and pulling the blonde into a warm embrace. "I should think that a certain someone slept just as ill."

"Lizzy," Jane blushed, "I—I doubt that very much."

"You, Dearest, can be so very blind. He is violently in love with you. Now, to the table, or else we may starve," Lizzy intoned with a dry smirk.

"You shouldn't speak so about him, he's really not that bad, and he _is_ family," Jane scolded her sister about speaking about Mr. Collins.

"I will be nice," Lizzy rolled her eyes, "for you, Jane, only you."

* * *

That promise lasted as long as Lizzy's resolve to be joyful. In truth her cause for joy quickly became, in part, her cause for misery. The snow served to trap her indoors, trapping Elizabeth with a man whom she had rejected, a mother whose plot had been foiled, and two silly sisters who couldn't hold their tongues.

Walking had always been Elizabeth's escape, almost from the very steps she took. It was easy, even as a young child, to escape the house and wander the fields and grounds surrounding Longbourn. The hitch in that refuge was the heavy, wet snow that was still accumulating on the ground. It hadn't slowed at all; if possible, it seemed heavier.

"If you continue to sigh so heavily and stare out the window like man about to be hung, I shall throw you out of my library, Lizzy Dear," the half amused voice of Mr. Bennet informed his daughter.

This drew a smile, "Yes, Papa."

Being denied her favorite refuge, Elizabeth had sought asylum in her father's library. It was the only room in the house where her mother had the sense to knock and accept, at times, being denied entry. Curled up in an armchair before the fire, Lizzy held a closed book in her lap. She meant to read, she really had, but she was worn.

"The militia has gone," she spoke idly, her mind drifting to Mr. Wickham and straying to Mr. _Darcy_ too.

"Yes," Mr. Bennet agreed. "It seems they were sent to Brighton early to help with the snow, it is always worse near the ocean."

"Yes," Lizzy agreed slowly. "Papa, Mr. Wickham...never mind," she shook her head of the question that flitted through her head.

"Lizzy, I thought I raised at least _one_ daughter who asked questions of everything and everyone," it was true, he had taught her to be inquisitive of all.

"What do you think of Mr. Darcy?"

Mr. Bennet set down his pen, "Does this have to do with Mr. Wickham?"

She sighed and rose from her chair, pacing slowly before her father's desk. "He told me a story, his story, his history, it involved Mr. Darcy. Last night, Mr. Darcy…oh I don't know. Something is off. I didn't even think on it until Lydia told me they'd gone."

After several moments of silence Mr. Bennet spoke, "Mr. Bingley is a fool, he is too kind, too open. He has much to guard but leaves himself open to attack. A wise man is cautious. As Aesop says, 'He that hath been once beguiled by some other ought to keep him well from the same,' right, Lizzy?"

Lizzy nodded at the irrefutable point, "But what does Mr. Darcy have to be cautious of?"

"The very same thing you have perhaps, your mother," Mr. Bennet smirked, Lizzy huffed as her resolve to hate Darcy weakened—it wasn't easy to be Fanny Bennet's daughter, it probably wasn't any easier being the object of her schemes, or any scheme of marriage at that.

* * *

_1 December, 1811_

The first snow had made the roads impassable, even horseman hadn't ventured far from the stables. It was too treacherous to take the roads because they had frozen in places, and the fields held pits and holes that could maim a horse. Though it was Sunday, no one would venture out of doors for church. The first morning of December came as the first day without new snow. It was the first day that someone as desperate as Lizzy could sensible find themselves out of doors.

* * *

The first breath of crisp air invaded Elizabeth's lungs and made her cough sharply. Already it seemed her nose was frozen and her fingers were a little stiff. She was determined however to be away from the house. It didn't matter that Mr. Collins had sequestered himself in his room or that Elizabeth's mama had done much the same, only she had taken the extra step to ignore her second eldest by refusing to be in the same room as Lizzy.

Lizzy didn't mind. She was happy that the yelling and derisive looks had stopped. Still, though, the house had become oppressive. She needed the escape. That was how she found herself watching the sun rise coolly over the snow-laden land. Cocooned within a pair of blankets Elizabeth relaxed against the trunk of an old tree, its boughs though heavy with snow sheltered her. Oakham Mount had long been Lizzy's hiding place, no matter the weather or the problem.

Slowly as the sun rose in the sky the birds and rabbits appeared, leaving their own shelters to discover the new realm of winter. The world was quiet, there was no rumble of carriages or hoof-beats, no children playing in the fields. The snow muffled the noise of life, it was a peace Lizzy had been desperate for. So she sat there curled up in the warmth of her blankets, nibbling on an apple and tossing bread to the birds that dared come out into the chilly daytime.

* * *

Not so far from the giant oak that sheltered the young woman stood a man. Boots sunk in the snow nearly up to his knees. He stood frozen, not by the cold, but by the sight. His search for solitude would be broken by _her_, by Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, _Elizabeth_. Though his mind screamed at him to turn back, to be away from her and her sharp tongue his body would not obey. He could not turn back or continue on. He was rooted much like the oak she rested against.

And so Mr. Darcy stood partly entrenched in the snow as a statue watching the petite figure not so far away. If she were turn her head a little more he would be caught. But Miss Elizabeth didn't turn. She kept her dark eyes turned to the sky, watching the hazy smoke chimneys drift upward on the breeze.

He watched her feed the animals, and weave a few of the flowers that grew at the base of the tree into a crown she sat up on her head. It was something he had seen Georgiana do, though not so well or so quickly. Georgie had learned from Fitz who had learned from a lady he had chased some years ago. Suffice to say Fitz hadn't been that keen on learning so much as being taught. Darcy watched as she slunk lower in her blankets, hiding her pink nose and cheeks from the cold. As he observed, he would never admit to staring, he couldn't help but wonder why she was out of doors, why she was alone. Miss Elizabeth had proven time and again that she was fiercely independent, but she had also proven that she was quite sensible. What had led her out of doors, what indeed.

It wasn't until the sun was directly overhead and Darcy's empty stomach made its presence known that the tall dark figure forced himself to turn away. Resolving the next day to venture elsewhere, though surely his interruption wouldn't again be there beneath that tree.

* * *

Almost as soon as Darcy entered the house he regretted it and he remembered sharply why he had left it. Caroline Bingley was throwing a fit. Well, to be more precise, she was _still_ throwing a fit. She had clearly been determined to leave Hertfordshire and never return, despite her brother's wishes. Four days of her whining and demanding they leave was four more days than Darcy could handle. The moment it became feasible to escape he did. He was just as upset that he was trapped as Caroline was, he was first of all trapped with the screeching lady and secondly trapped far from his sister. And as Bingley was likely to say he was a bear when he didn't get his way.

* * *

It seemed that the world had conspired against the residents of Hertfordshire. They were all frozen right where they were. Netherfield _would_ see Christmas.

* * *

"_We cannot possibly let ourselves get frozen into regarding everyone we do not know as an absolute stranger__."_

_-__-Albert Schweitzer_


	2. Guard

Disclaimer: I do not own Pride & Prejudice, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar.

* * *

_2 December, 1811_

Darcy woke to the sun shining through his windows. Grudgingly he rose, setting his bare feet on the cool floor. Despite the fire that burned in the room the room was cold. Steeling himself, Darcy slid on his slippers and robe and walked over to the window. He nearly cursed at the sight. Instead of the matte snow he had hoped to see, it was a sparkling reflection. The snow had melted slightly under yesterday's sun and frozen the wet snow slick like ice.

He had hoped to spend Christmas with Georgiana like always. There had never been a year they had spent the holiday apart. Darcy sighed heavily. At least she was not alone. Fitz had brought her to London in preparation for Christmas, and Fitz would quickly understand the impossibility the snow presented.

* * *

Not unsurprisingly when Darcy made his way to the morning meal, Bingley was his only companion. Caroline's fit had ended in her storming off to her bedroom and locking herself in, refusing to come out until they could leave.

"Ah, good morning, Darcy," Bingley smiled. "What a splendid morning!"

Darcy bit his tongue, "I suppose, your sister, however, does not think so."

"Well, you know Caroline," Bingley's blonde curls flopped forward, "she's just unhappy to be in the country at Christmas time. And you as well, I expect."

Darcy opened his mouth to speak but closed it after a moment. Georgiana's name didn't need to be said for Bingley to know _why_ the taller man was unhappy.

"You never know," Bingley offered up, "perhaps the snow will melt enough for you to go to London."

"You would remain here," Darcy questioned Charles.

Charles set down his teacup and nodded deeply, "I have spent the last five days away from Miss Bennet and I can't imagine spending another five days away from her let alone an entire season!"

Darcy frowned inwardly. Charles had been surprisingly down in spirits the last several days. Though Darcy had attributed it to Caroline's screeching rather than the prospect of being away from Miss Jane Bennet.

"Where did you disappear off to yesterday, Man, I looked everywhere," Charles asked in a lighter tone.

"I went for a walk," Darcy admitted sipping his coffee.

"Without me," Charles exclaimed, "you traitor!"

Darcy chuckled lowly, "You could always make an excuse about going into the village."

Charles sighed, "And where exactly will you be?"

"Walking," Darcy answered shortly, finishing his drink and picking up a roll as he stood.

"Traitor," was Charles' yell as Darcy retreated to his room to dress for the outdoors.

* * *

Traitor indeed, Darcy's feet drew him not toward the far reaches of Netherfield, but once again to Oakham Mount. Unlike the day before, today brought an empty seat beneath the oak, not that Darcy ventured any further than a small copse of trees out of sight of the spot but offered and excellent vantage point of it. Settling his blanket down, Darcy sat and waited. Although, were anyone to ask, Charles in particular, Darcy was certainly not waiting, he was relaxing. Darcy had brought a book of poetry along; _Elizabeth's_ comment about poetry starving love had itched at him for weeks now. He was half determined to prove her wrong and half determined to pretend his choice of book had nothing to do with her. The latter was proven impossible as it seemed that every few seconds his eyes would drift upward, hoping and petrified to see her sitting below the tree. As the sun rose overhead he was disappointed to find the spot vacant. Darcy's mind spun, perhaps she was ill, or she was tending to her family, or she had chosen another spot today.

His frantic musings were interrupted by a light laugh and a soft bark. Restraining himself from rising to set eyes on the laughs owner, Darcy settled backwards, shrouding himself in as much shadow as he could. It only took a moment before she crested the slope and became visible. It was _her_, trailed by a hulking dog.

"Come on, Plato, good boy," came the sweet tone of Elizabeth Bennet's cheerful voice.

He watched her dig her booted feet into the snow and tease the beast of a dog with a stick. The dog seemed gentle, despite the strength that Darcy could see beneath the fur. The gentleness was also betrayed by the ultimate size of the creature, it was as large as a small pony, easily reaching Elizabeth's waist, and his head tipped up nuzzled her upper arm. Elizabeth didn't seem to mind the dog's imposing form nudging her from her spot or lying across her lap once she had settled under the tree.

* * *

Today, Elizabeth had brought a skein of some heavy yarn and knitting needles, her thickly gloved fingers worked with an ease that shocked the observing man. Elizabeth squirmed beneath the weight of Plato, one hand straying from her needles to scratch Plato behind his ear. The dog rolled slightly, squishing the half knit blanket beneath his shaggy fur.

"Oh Plato," Elizabeth smirked bending to rest her head against the dog's wide brow. "You goose, you spoiled boy you're laying on my knitting."

Plato woofed softly in response and laid his head on his paws, not bothering to move. Plato had been a present for Jane and Elizabeth a few years ago. Though the dog loved Jane, it had been Elizabeth's adventurous spirit that made her the choice companion of Plato. Today, Plato had taken it upon himself to keep her warm and safe should there be any terribly dangerous rabbits or waterfowl. Elizabeth didn't mind, Plato was big and furry, a better bed warmer than a million blankets.

Threading her yarn around the needle, Elizabeth refocused herself. She had promised herself she would finish this blanket and deliver it to the Hutchinson family before returning home for the evening. Elizabeth and the rest of her sisters had spent yesterday evening and this morning knitting and sewing as many blankets and warm clothes as they could for the families that they tended to. It was part of the cold season every year, this year winter had come unexpectedly soon, leaving the Bennet ladies to rush their tasks and abandon idle chit chat. That didn't however, mean that Elizabeth was going to forgo her adventures or her solitude.

As the sun glowed warmly and the breeze rustled the leaves of trees free of snow, Elizabeth never noticed Plato's dark eyes trained on a figure just out of sight. Plato blinked sleepily at the man who sat just out of range of his mistress, watching her, so he guarded his mistress and watched him.

* * *

_3 December, 1811_

After two days of watching, he would never admit to the truth of his behavior, Darcy was ready to stop his own shady behavior. Any observer would easily think him a stalker, waiting to steal away Miss Elizabeth. Today however, he was prepared accidentally meet her. He had a napkin filled with nuts and an apple tart tucked away, he brought an extra blanket and his own dog on the pretense of exercise. There was no way he could not meet her now, he had expressly informed Bingley and Caroline that he was going to exercise Arcturus. There was no possible way he could allow anyone to catch him in a lie, he must take Arcturus out and exercise him, he must continue walking, and Darcy couldn't just stop as he had the last two days.

That was how he found himself following Arcturus as he rolled in the snow, free of his lead. As man and dog reached the base of Oakham Mount, Darcy steeled himself and whistled a soft command to the hunting dog to keep moving. Darcy followed. His nerves would not get the better of him now.

As Arcturus lunged ahead, Darcy heard a soft gasp of surprise. "Well hello there," came the soft laughter of Elizabeth Bennet.

Darcy strode the last few steps and into her sight, "I apologize, Arcturus can be a little friendly." Arcturus snorted, rolling his head as if to deny the accusation.

"Mr. Darcy," was the slightly stiff response as inclined her head but continued to knit, not wishing to untangle herself from her blankets or knitting. Her own dog was nowhere in sight, Darcy wondered if he was wandering, but he certainly couldn't ask. That would betray his guilt in watching her.

"Miss Elizabeth," he returned with a slow bow. His eyes tracing her face, watching for any tell of anger, the last time they had spoken had been abrupt, and he'd been irritated. She would be well within her right to ignore him and go on her way.

"Mr. Darcy," she repeated as he straightened. Elizabeth's eyes drifted from the master to the beast who was nudging her side for attention.

"Arcturus," Darcy scolded softly. "I'm sorry."

Her teeth caught her lip gently to hold back a smile at the dog, "Oh he just wants a little attention."

Darcy licked his own lips, his throat suddenly very dry, "I'm afraid my sister spoils him." Elizabeth didn't speak as she rubbed the spotted dog's head so Darcy continued, "She lets him jump on the sofa and eat scraps from the table at dinner. I caught her feeding him her vegetables when she was younger."

His awkward deep chuckle was interrupted by Elizabeth, "Sir, if you are determined to speak, would you at least do me the courtesy of sitting so I don't strain myself looking up at you?"

"Of course," Darcy leaped at the half-hearted request of his company. Courtesy on her part to be sure, but there was no one to see her so she must care a little, just a little.

Quickly, Darcy set his blanket down and sat upon it, Arcturus sitting between them, preserving what little propriety there was in the situation. Silence settled between the trio, none wanting to upset the peace for the moment.

At last Darcy stretched a leather clad finger out to touch the dark blue yarn creation, "This is good work."

"Thank you," Elizabeth offered as she continued her work, attempting to keep her focus on her work and not the man she was quite unsure of at her side.

"Do you often knit," he asked, desperate to extract more than two words from her at a time.

"Yes," he was again disappointed.

Darcy fidgeted slightly, "I didn't know."

"I shouldn't think you would," Elizabeth's teeth caught her lip once again, her soft pink lips set beneath that delicate nose tinged pink from the chill.

"Georgie, my sister, tries so hard to knit me something for Christmas every year, it turns our horrible but I haven't the heart to tell her so," he smiled to himself, Georgie was talented at many things, knitting was not one of those things.

"And what has she knitted you," Elizabeth couldn't help but ask. From all accounts Georgiana was terrifyingly perfect and cold, yet here was Mr. Darcy, her brother, saying she is not so perfect after all.

"Last year was a scarf," Darcy fingered the scarf he wore, "It was so loose that a baby's hand could fit threw the knit."

"And did you wear it, Mr. Darcy," she tried to goad him.

Mr. Darcy bit the inside of his cheek, she was speaking to him, teasing him, and he would let her. "I did, I suffered a terrible cold, and had to tell Georgie that our Cousin had gotten me sick so she wouldn't blame herself."

Elizabeth wanted to hate the man on principal, but her father's words about questioning echoed in her mind. She couldn't blindly listen to George Wickham and not allow Mr. Darcy the same. So instead of huffing and hating him in her mind she grudgingly smiled and responded to him as if he were any other man, not one she had sworn to despise. "That is very," the smile became mysteriously genuine, "sweet."

_Sweet_, Darcy relaxed backward against the tree a bit more. He had never desired more to be called sweet, than in that moment.

* * *

"_It is with trifles, and when he is off guard, that a man best reveals his character."_

_-Arthur Schopenhauer_

* * *

A/N: Thank you to those who have reviewed. For those of you who don't know me, or my Holiday fics, here's the rundown. I write and post 1 chapter a day until Christmas. That doesn't mean you shouldn't review, I write this for you all as a gift, so return the love. Also I'm in my last week and a half of classes, so I'm a bit crammed at the moment so excuse my sometimes drunken mistakes. Love to you all, see you tomorrow!


	3. Misunderstandings

Disclaimer: I do not own Pride & Prejudice, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar.

* * *

_3 December, 1811_

Arcturus nudged Elizabeth's knitting off her lap, nuzzling his nose into her lap, wanting attention. Elizabeth couldn't help but smile, Darcy had been thankfully quiet for some time, and if she tried really hard, she could pretend she wasn't sitting next to one of the most frustrating men of her acquaintance. Arcturus made that slightly more difficult. He was a pushy beast. Lizzy didn't quite mind, he was sweet, well sweeter than his master at any rate.

Setting her knitting aside, Lizzy stripped off her gloves and threaded her fingers through Arcturus' short fur, tracing her finger tips over his wet nose, floppy ears and the ridge of his head. The cool weather made her bare hands ache after a moment, although that might have been due in part to the damp fur she was petting. The chill abated as a warm tongue lapped at her fingers. Lizzy did laugh at that. Arcturus was certainly sweeter and more charming than Darcy.

Her thoughts were cut off as she let her hands drift back toward her lap only to have them caught by the wrist by the object of her thoughts. Startled, Elizabeth jerked slightly, her wrists swallowed by one of Darcy's hands, and with another start she realized that he was no longer wearing his gloves. His bare skin was bleeding warmth into her chilled flesh. She didn't say anything, her throat closing off and leaving her breathless. Darcy moved slowly, savoring each second though he knew he shouldn't, taking his handkerchief he dried each delicate finger, rubbing his thumb across the softness of her palm, his other hand holding her wrists and feeling her pulse throb against his skin.

Swallowing down his groan of pleasure, Darcy mentally slapped himself. He shouldn't allow himself to take such liberties. He shouldn't _want _to take such liberties. Somehow she had gotten under his skin and now he couldn't think properly. He was acting as foolish as Bingley did when he believed himself in love. That comparison was enough to throw Darcy out of his own head; he would not startle Elizabeth any more than he already had. She looked like her heart was about to burst, like a rabbit caught by a dog.

Slowly, torturously, Darcy released her hands, his bare fingers slipping across her palm, her fingers, catching slightly before losing touch entirely. Her hazel eyes remained lowered to her lap, and Darcy could have sworn her cheeks were flushed not just by the cold but with heat.

After a moment of her being positively statuesque, Darcy frowned, "You should put your gloves on, Miss Elizabeth."

She shook her head lightly, coming out of her haze. "Yes, of course," her voice was soft, distant almost. Elizabeth couldn't help the slight tremble in her hands as she pulled her gloves back onto her hands. She prayed that Darcy wouldn't notice, or he would think it from anger or the cold. What an impertinent man, and with an internal huff, she realized that she had just called him impertinent, a characteristic she prized in herself and others… No, Elizabeth breathed deeply, forcing her stiff jaw to relax, she would not let him tease her and make her like him. She would not allow him to act so contradictory to who she knew him to be.

Resolved Elizabeth picked up her knitting once more, she would finish this blanket. She would, despite dog and man who seemed intent on setting her emotions on opposite ends of the spectrum.

Out of the corner of her eye Elizabeth watched Darcy pull napkin from his pocket. Half curious, Elizabeth raised one brow and tipped her head to the side, allowing her to sneak a better glance at the man. Darcy's re-gloved hands pulled a strip of dried meat from the covering before tossing it out into the snow a good distance away. Arcturus lunged up from his seat upsetting Elizabeth's knitting once more. Sighing, Elizabeth wrapped up her needles and yarn and set them in the basket at her side. Even as stubborn creature like her knew when to give up, most of the time at least.

Settling back with a soft sigh, Elizabeth took a few deep breaths, snuggling back into her seat. Despite the snow and chilly air, the young woman was quite comfortable. If it were spring or summer, she would be considering closing her eyes and napping beneath the sun. That option was out on two counts, one being it was too cold to risk a nap, and two there was a man who seemed to be inching closer to her, or perhaps that was just her mind playing tricks on her. Without Arcturus to keep them apart, Darcy's form seemed to tower over Elizabeth even though he was sitting, long legs stretched out before him.

Refusing to stare at the man who had been vexing her so thoroughly, Elizabeth's eyes searched out Arcturus. "What breed is he," she asked, not quite sure of the brown and white spotted beast.

Darcy's voice was light—relaxed—Lizzy decided. "English Pointer, though sometimes he seems to think he's a lapdog." That startled a giggle out his companion. He wanted to ask about her dog, Plato, but he couldn't. Not unless he could get her to admit that she had a beast hidden from polite society just as he did.

"He's gorgeous, if a little spoiled like you said," Elizabeth conceded. Arcturus seemed like a good dog, strong but kind, a little like her Plato.

"Do you like dogs," he pressed her, eager for the easy and tension free conversation to continue.

Her eyes sparkled as she watched Arcturus tumble through the snow tripping over his own paws. "I do. It helps that my mother hates that I love dogs," she hadn't really meant to reveal that, but her mind and body were relaxing slowly. Lizzy swore that this had to be the longest conversation she had had with the man that hadn't ended in one of them practically yelling or storming off.

Darcy lunged at the opportunity, "Then you don't have the pleasure of having a dog of your own?"

Her head twitched in the negative, "I'm my father's favorite, and he loves dearly to vex my mother so a few years ago he bought Jane and I a Newfoundland."

Darcy gritted his teeth to keep from smirking at his small triumph. "I don't believe Miss Jane has mentioned a dog to Charles."

"Plato, oh that's his name, Plato loves Jane, but I'm his favorite pillow," Elizabeth grinned to herself. She was lucky in that respect, though Plato weighed quite a bit he was warmer than a fire. It was Lizzy's bed he jumped up onto despite Mrs. Bennet's fits. It was Lizzy who had curled around in the winter and kept safe and warm. Not that she would ever let that slip to Mr. Darcy.

"Plato," Darcy asked, curious as to the name.

"I read a book about Plato, and it said that his name was derived from either breadth of eloquence, or his very broad forehead. I thought it fitting, Plato has a very large head and he's very bright," Elizabeth giggled, her dark eyes catching the sunlight and shining green and gold. "And Arcturus, the star?"

A cough issued from the man beside her, his cheeks staining a little pink, "My sister. She came across the meaning of the name in one of my books and decided it fit him very well, especially with me being his master."

The laughter couldn't possibly have been contained and Elizabeth outright laughed, pressing the back of her gloved hand to her lips to hide the grin as much as she could. "Your sister things you are a bear?"

"Don't you remember, I'm miserable if I'm not at home," Darcy admitted before silently thanking Georgiana for naming his dog Guardian of the Bear.

Elizabeth sobered after a few minutes of breathless laughter, "You don't seem so miserable as you were a week or so ago."

It was chance, Darcy noted, to admit something to her, to speak seriously with Elizabeth without either of their tempers flaring. "After spending four days listening to Miss Bingley whine, I promised myself that if I could get any respite I wouldn't be so miserable this winter."

Lizzy looked at him, "I don't know what I would do without Jane."

"I miss Georgie terribly, I've raised her with the help of Fitz since she was ten," Darcy smiled fondly thinking of his little sister, her bright eyes and blonde curls.

The curiosity that often got Lizzy in trouble reared its head. "How old is she now?"

"Fourteen, nearly fifteen," Darcy answered easily.

Lizzy smiled, "Nearly grown."

"Your youngest sister is fifteen correct," Darcy asked, though he knew he was right.

"Yes, and sillier than a gaggle of geese," Elizabeth sighed with a frown. "Georgiana can't be half so silly!"

That was true in some respects, "I wouldn't say that. She did name my dog so as to call me a bear." Darcy chuckled lowly, "She can be very silly sometimes."

"And you enjoy the silliness," Elizabeth wondered with incredulity.

Darcy caught her gaze, "I do."

"I don't know if I believe you, Sir," Elizabeth returned his gaze, "You seem so determined to despise me and my silliness."

Darcy huffed lowly, his temper flaring, "If you didn't willfully misunderstand me perhaps I wouldn't have to spur you into an argument just to have you speak to me!"

With surprising speed Elizabeth rose to her feet, dragging her blankets with her as a cloak of sorts. Here she had almost begun to come to terms with an apathetic acquaintanceship with the man, and now he was stoking her temper. Exhaling loudly Elizabeth took a step and then another, she found herself pacing angrily, trying to work through his words. When she did manage to calm her temper enough to think rationally her steps faltered and she looked at the now standing man.

"Do you mean to tell me that you've been _starting_ arguments on _purpose_," she nearly yelped, but managed to keep her tone somewhat calm.

Darcy cursed himself, he had been determined not to feel anything more for her, but now he was too deep. He had enjoyed arguing with her, she was witty, she was bright, and she kept him on his toes. In the short hours they had spent side by side he had fallen half in love with her, the pointless conversation the idle chitchat to fill the silence, he enjoyed it. He enjoyed being at her side.

Elizabeth waited for an answer. She wanted to hear the words from his lips. He enjoyed fighting with her and making her look foolish in front of others. He just stared at her, his dark eyes gazing at her unyieldingly. Straightening her spine Elizabeth whipped off her blankets and folded them across her arm, picked up her basket of knitting, turned and headed towards home. She determinedly left _that_ infuriating man behind her lost in his own thoughts.

Darcy's own revelation caught him so off guard that he only belatedly comprehended her question, but it was too late. Elizabeth was already walking away from him, once again willfully misunderstanding him. It was a blessing and a curse. She misunderstood every attempt he made at friendship and his admittedly clumsy attempts at courtship. He was, on the other hand, granted at least one night to reconcile his emotions and perhaps he could send a letter to Georgiana—except Georgiana already knew his history to an extent with Miss Elizabeth, and Georgiana was half in love with the woman already. Georgiana's last letter had mimicked Miss Bingley's sentiments of well wishes on their marriage so much so that Darcy had been surprised at his sister's gleeful letter. In truth, the more time Darcy spent in the presence of Miss Elizabeth Bennet, the quicker all objections he could possibly have fell to the wayside.

The walk back to Netherfield left Darcy with the greatest resolve to win Miss Elizabeth's hand. His attentions at the ball and throughout their acquaintanceship had been to marked to be mistaken, he had paid her attentions he had never paid another woman outside his family, and though she was argumentative, she was softening towards him, a little longer and he would have her. It was the only option.

* * *

"_I don't believe in devils. Indifference and misunderstandings can create evil situations. Most of the time, people who appear to be evil are really victims of evil deeds."_

_-Max von Sydow_

* * *

A/N: Thank you again for the lovely reviews. I'm starting in on crunch time. I have my senior paper due on Monday and I've only a brief outline done. So this should be an interesting week! Lots of love, and please review, we're starting to get into the hijinks of Darcy and Elizabeth. And let me tell you just because it is 1811, that doesn't mean there isn't going to be sexual tension, Lizzy and Darcy are going to be very soon finding themselves out of sorts! Night Dears!


	4. Madness

Disclaimer: I do not own Pride & Prejudice, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar.

* * *

_4 December, 1811_

The sun rose to a restless Lizzy. She hadn't slept more than a few moments between her mind spinning around Plato practically climbing on top of her. After a couple of hours flopping around miserably, Lizzy had retrieved her knitting and finished the last of yesterday's blanket before beginning a new one, and then another. Elizabeth had always found that a tumultuous mind led to busy hands, or perhaps it was that she needed busy hands to deal with a tumultuous mind.

The house was quiet as Lizzy's knitting needles clicked softly, Plato snoring lightly atop her legs. "Plato," she whispered, lifting one leg, the dog's head lolled to the side. "You lazy beast," she smiled fondly. "I saw Darcy yesterday, what do you think of that?"

Plato snorted in sleep, his tongue flicking out, no doubt dreaming of a rabbit. Lizzy moaned softly, she was exhausted and really all she wanted was to talk about what had happened, and Plato seemed to be the only viable option—except he was snoring.

* * *

Once the household was awake, Elizabeth set her hair for the day, tying it back as well as she could and settling her bonnet atop the mass of curls. Today she was going with Jane to deliver food and clothes and the blankets to the families that the Bennet's were responsible for. The young woman actually quite enjoyed visiting and talking and helping out the families. They didn't gossip, and they weren't silly. They were real people who had real worries.

It was still too dangerous to take the carriage so Lizzy and Jane set off on foot, it was short walk even though it was cold. Plato had, however, shaken himself out of sleep to escort the two girls. Plato was a big teddy bear, he loved playing with children, or rather letting them climb all over him. He had the sweetest temperament most of the time, but he could be quite threatening as well. Today, Plato was happy to ramble across the snow ahead of the girls.

Jane split off to talk to some of the older women, while Lizzy and Plato tended to the children. Plato got the older children, while Lizzy cradled two infants in the warmth of a small house.

Elizabeth had a terrible weakness for children. Her cousins had given her the taste of what joy they could bring, and despite Lizzy's belief that she would die an old maid, a part of her longed for children of her own. She never told Jane or her father or even Plato. It was one of those emotions she didn't dare speak aloud because then she might have to face it. Instead, Lizzy doted on the children in her life, she bought them sweets and read to them and played for hours just to see them smile, and laugh, and hear them stumble over her name.

Rocking the little boy in her arms, Elizabeth hummed softly, those bright little eyes blinking up at her, and the tiny little fingers curled around the edge of the swaddling cloth. "Aren't you handsome," she whispered with a faint smile. "You're going to grow up very strong, I can tell." The other babe in her care was a little bigger, slightly older. She was fast asleep though she wriggled against Lizzy's warm chest. Though she loved all children, it was the boys that made her smile from ear to ear no matter what they'd done. Elizabeth wanted someone who would love her always, just as she loved her father.

Setting the girl down on the makeshift bed on the floor, Lizzy stood with the boy, holding him more firmly she nuzzled his head with her nose, giggling as his little fingers reached for her hair, missing by some inches. "Yes, you're going to break your mother's heart, aren't you, Little One?"

* * *

Darcy rose to greet the day in a much better mood than he had been in for nearly a week. That he had to attribute to yesterdays success. Today he would take another step forward, today he would make her want to speak to him.

His mood lasted only briefly, almost from the first moment his boot touched the ground floor of the house Darcy became trapped. Caroline Bingley appeared before him instantaneously, her lips spread wide in a smile that was forced.

"Mr. Darcy, what in the world could you be doing up so early," she asked, her voice so airy and high it would be hard to tell if she were surprised.

Darcy inclined his head in greeting before straightening, "It isn't so early, Miss Bingley."

Caroline laughed short and condescending, "Oh Mr. Darcy, how funny. Since we are trapped indoors with absolutely nothing to entertain us this is very early in the day."

Darcy resisted the urge to offer her a book so she might be entertained. He might have refrained, but before he could even think of an appropriate response, Caroline had threaded her arm through his and was pulling him towards the dining room.

"I suppose we shall have to entertain one another. You can turn pages while I practice on the pianoforte this morning," Caroline decided.

Her declaration, conveniently, came as Darcy was nearly dragged into the dining room. Charles cocked his head to the side, setting his knife and fork down, "I'm sorry Caroline, I already asked Darcy to help me with the books this morning."

Caroline huffed, dropping into her seat with only the barest hint of grace. "Books, how dull, if we are going to be _stuck_ here for Christmas, Brother, you could at least spend some time being a proper host, which means not plaguing Mr. Darcy with work!"

Darcy sat in his chair, tossing Charles a thankful nod. "Work should never be left to sit," Darcy intoned. Trying to be every ounce of boring his sister claimed he was when he worked.

"I agree," Charles nodded, spearing a piece of sausage with his fork. "If we do the work now, we can go walking tomorrow, right Darcy?"

"Precisely," Darcy agreed. This gave him two days free of Caroline if he was careful.

Caroline shook her head, "You can't possibly mean to go outside. It's positively frigid. You'll catch your deaths out in the cold. No, you simply must stay inside."

Charles shrugged his shoulders, an non-answer would suffice for now, Caroline was so determined she was right that she would take silence as approval.

And take it she did, leaving Charles and Darcy to drink a little port and talk idly about Bingley's plans for the future.

"It's a good house," Charles muttered happily, patting the large wooden desk fondly. "I see why you like the country so very much, Darcy."

"You've decided to purchase the house," Darcy asked not sure if he was as against the idea as he had been two weeks before.

Charles nodded, "Do you think it's a good idea?"

"It's not my opinion that matters, Charles," Darcy admitted. And that sentiment had Darcy's head spinning. He was so determined to catch Elizabeth but he had been scoffing at his best friend's own forays into love. However, Charles was of such a happy nature that he was wont to be taken advantage of. Darcy had seen it before, and stepped in. The attachments then had faded quickly, but if Darcy were to pursue Elizabeth then such a separation between Charles and Jane would be nearly impossible. Could Darcy honestly deny his friend the same happiness that he was in want of? No, he couldn't. Swallowing the last of his port, Darcy became determined to reexamine Jane Bennet's attachment to his friend. His actions no matter how noble would inevitably turn on him if Elizabeth Bennet found her sister hurt.

* * *

Having left Arcturus at home to sleep before the fire, Darcy walked towards Oakham Mount once again. Perhaps he would ask about Jane, yes, Elizabeth loved her sister so much as to never want her to suffer in marriage, she would be honest with him.

Darcy's firm plans and steady feet had led him astray. He had been determined to set his plans further into motion; however Elizabeth was _not_ sitting beneath the oak tree, and despite the hour it didn't appear as though she had been there at all, and with each passing minute it seemed less likely that she would come.

His face turned dark, stony, he was annoyed, and then he became worried. What if she had hurt herself on the walk home, what if she had fallen ill, what if she was sitting beneath a different tree.

* * *

In fact, Darcy's half-panicked thoughts weren't so far from reality. Elizabeth _was_ sitting beneath a different tree. After returning from delivering food and blankets, Jane had set to work on a new bonnet for herself, Lydia and Kitty were giggling over something one of the stable-boys had done, and Mary had settled herself in at the pianoforte without a break. Lizzy had found herself outside, walking towards her oak tree, halfway there, her mind caught up with her feet. She couldn't possible return to _her_ spot, not when Mr. Darcy seemed so determined to usurp it from her and drive her to madness while he was at it.

No, Elizabeth Bennet would _not _give him the pleasure of annoying her so. She would let him have her tree, for a little while at least. She would fall back on another sanctuary of hers. Instead of a regal view of Meryton and the countryside, Lizzy settled for a young maple that stood beside a stream. This was a precious spot to Lizzy because she had helped her father plant that maple when she was a child. It was her fourth birthday gift. Mr. Bennet so determined that one day Lizzy would climb up it just to escape her mama, and he had been right.

Today, the maple was serving as an escape from another, which was rare. With glove clad hands, Lizzy traced the trunk of the tree, remembering how she had tumbled out of the branches when she was 15 only to climb right back up and try again. The tree had grown fast and strong, only barely keeping up with Lizzy. Now though Lizzy was too old to be caught climbing trees, that wasn't to say she didn't, but she saved those moments for days she knew she couldn't possibly be caught.

Elizabeth's hand darted off the tree at that thought, _caught_. Mr. Darcy had acted so strangely, so strangely she was sure he must have been feverish. That would explain his behavior, or perhaps he was just lonely, missing his sister. Lizzy knew that she could be quite moody when Jane was away at the Gardiners'. Yes, Lizzy nodded to herself, but still…

"Infuriating man, always getting under my skin," she sulked, sitting down in the snow entirely forgetting the blanket she'd dropped a few feet away. "I can't he's been starting arguments with me on purpose, what a…" she let out a short exclamation of frustration. There was simply no dealing with that man.

But why had he dried her fingers, what had prompted such a haughty man to tend to someone so beneath his notice. Her pulse quickened as she remembered his fingers wrapped around her wrists, she breathed slowly at the sensation, there was no use getting angry. She was after all trying to escape _him_ and everyone else, what sense was there in ruining her solitude by ruminating on how maddeningly confusing Darcy could be.

Inhaling and exhaling slowly, Elizabeth banished all thoughts from her mind, flopped down in the snow on her back and did something she hadn't done in years. She stretched her limbs, making a not so perfect angel in the snow just like when she was a child. Elizabeth loved winter, but this year she felt a little trapped and growing a little mad with each day of.

* * *

"_Love that is not madness is not love.__"__  
__-Pedro Calderon de la Barca__  
_

* * *

A/N: 4/25 done. To answer a few questions, I write these the day I post them, and barring any huge issues, I will post every day until the 25th. In the past I sometimes got behind, but I have always completed my Christmas fics. Thank you for all the sweet reviews, it definitely makes my day happier and feeds my skittles which then turn into rainbow story goodness. Also, I know, no Darcy Elizabeth cuteness in this chapter, but you know, if I'm going to get them together by Christmas I need them to work on their issues. 'til tomorrow, Loves, goodnight!


	5. Trembling

Disclaimer: I do not own Pride & Prejudice, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar.

* * *

_05 December, 1811_

Caroline paced in her room. She was at the end of her sanity. How could anyone expect her to stay in the _country_ of all places, it was all so unsupportable. There were no shops, there were no parties worth going to, all these people were fools and not worth associating with. Yet, Caroline was _still_ in the country. She _was_ in the country with Darcy, but Darcy had been more elusive than not as of late. Even with a snowstorm, he had somehow managed to avoid her for days on end, and she had finally found him he still slipped through her grasp, disappearing once more.

Today she would spend at his side_, _Charles could not possibly have more work to do, and it had snowed again in the early morning bring a fresh chill to the house. No, Caroline, would not, could not be thwarted again. With forceful steps, Caroline marched from her bedroom, head held high, nose in the air.

She arrived in the dining room with a delicate sniff, "This is entirely hopeless, are we trapped in this place forever?"

The practiced comment went unnoticed as Mr. Hurst, still half-asleep, was the only inhabitant of the room. Caroline's head slid down, her eyes narrowing in fury. "Where is Charles," she demanded, her shrill cry startling Mr. Hurst into spilling his tea onto his lap.

"Damn," he groaned loudly.

Caroline planted her hands onto the table loudly, the china clinking angrily. "Where is my brother!"

* * *

Charles happened to be barely restraining himself as he moved across the freshly fallen snow, his breeches dampening from his careless steps. "Come on, Man!"

Several paces behind Bingley walked Darcy. He had agreed to walk with Charles to visit the Bennet household. Today he would speak to Elizabeth. Today she would not escape him. That didn't, however, mean that he was going to practically run the three miles to Longbourn. The unkempt eager look suited Charles and his attitude, Darcy had always prided himself on being put together, being unruffled. Elizabeth had left him severely on edge the last several days, and today, he wanted to be as kempt as possible, perhaps if he felt confident, she would not put him on edge.

Still, even walking, the three miles passed too quickly, Darcy flexed his knuckles. His hands curled and relaxed, his gloves feeling too confining and hot. The tall man swallowed dryly as Charles knocked eagerly on the door. They were admitted out of the cold and stripped of their outer coats, hats, and gloves. After a few moments waiting to be received, the cheerful housekeeper led them to the sitting room. Five females rose and curtsied as the two men dipped into bows. Darcy's eyes flicked over the women, Elizabeth was not present.

Torn, Darcy followed Charles over to a pair of chairs, sitting and listening half-heartedly as Charles immediately began to pester Miss Bennet with a hundred different questions. Where could she be, Darcy had purposely guided Charles passed Oakham Mount on the walk, and once again the seat beneath the tree had been vacant.

His ears perked as he heard Charles ask where Elizabeth was, "Elizabeth is with father, in his library."

Mrs. Bennet grumbled at the subject of conversation, "That girl is so ungrateful!" She turned to Mary and scolded her for reading instead of conversing.

Lydia and Kitty giggled and leaned forward conspiratorially, "Mama is still furious with Lizzy. You'll never guess what she did!"

Kitty nodded at her sister's exclamation. Jane frowned, "_Lydia_."

"Oh hush Jane, it is such a good laugh," Lydia giggled, her legs jiggling in excitement. "The day after the ball Mr. Collins proposed marriage to Lizzy!"

Darcy's disinterest had quickly faded, and now eyes were sharp. She was engaged, no, Lizzy wouldn't. She hadn't seemed very pleased with the man.

Charles frowned, "Miss Elizabeth is engaged?"

Kitty's head shook frantically, her hand reaching up to cover her mouth as she gasped in laughter. Lydia didn't bother to cover her laugh, "La! Lizzy would not have him! Now mama will not speak to Lizzy at all!"

The lump in Darcy's throat eased minutely. Elizabeth was not engaged. He couldn't help but wonder why she had rejected the man; surely securing her future was worth a little misery.

"I did not think your sister had much of an attachment with your cousin," Charles muttered.

Jane sighed, "Lizzy," she closed her mouth, unsure of how to finish her thought.

Lydia had no such problem. "Lizzy is determined to die an old maid," the youngest girl rolled her eyes and tossed her head, curls bouncing gaily.

"Lydia," Kitty frowned, "Lizzy wants to marry for love, so do I. That does not mean we want to die old maids."

Jane set a comforting hand on her second youngest sister's shoulder. "You won't, and neither will Elizabeth, no matter how much she jokes with us, she does wish to marry."

Darcy's fingers twitched, he had started to wonder, she pretended to be so oblivious to his attentions, even more so than her sister with Bingley. Now, at least, Darcy knew what he had to do. He had to make Miss Elizabeth Bennet love him, need him above all others.

As Charles and Jane drifted off into their own conversation and Kitty and Lydia giggled at how serious Mr. Darcy looked, the door opened and a hulking form lunged through the barely opened door.

"Plato," Jane half scolded as the dog rushed into the room, greeting Jane with a quick nudge before turning to the two interlopers.

Plato glared at the two men, the one was sitting slightly relaxed, not a threat, to his family. The second man caused Plato's lip to twitch up, exposing his canine, barely keeping the growl under control. The dog edged forward, his lip twitching again as the man extended his hand. Plato sniffed quickly, he smelled clean, of another dog, and of the outdoors. That didn't settle the big animal, he was certain that _this_ was the man that had watched his mistress. This was the scent that had been laced in with his mistress' scent. That was unacceptable. Turning up his nose, Plato sat in front of the man, daring him to move.

Darcy frowned as Plato sat before him. The dog was exposing his sharp teeth and refusing to be petted. It was Darcy's turn for his lip to twitch, exposing his canine, irritation building. If the dog was skeptical then the mistress would be as well. Darcy felt a little hopeless, Plato was, Darcy was sure, glaring at him.

Mrs. Bennet scowled at the sight of the dog, her attention finally pulled away from staring at her eldest and then looking meaningfully in Bingley's directions. "Lizzy," Fanny Bennet called _very_ loudly.

Kitty rose from her seat, "I'll go get her, Mama."

"Thank you, Kitty, what a good girl," Fanny smiled tightly, the dig not so powerful because it's intended focus was not present.

A moment later Kitty returned trailed by Elizabeth Bennet. Darcy stared, his eyes tracing her figure. From the stray curl that tickled her left cheek to her ink stained fingertips.

Elizabeth's feet froze as she fully entered the sitting room. She had expected her furious mother, but not a glaring Mr. Darcy or a completely indifferent Mr. Bingley. Straightening with a deep breath, Elizabeth took another step forward.

"Plato," she clicked her tongue and tilted her head, "Let's go for a walk."

Darcy rose instantly, "I will escort, Miss Elizabeth."

Before Elizabeth could reject the offer, her mother had turned to Mr. Darcy, "That would be lovely!"

It was a dismissal. Elizabeth was left without an escape.

* * *

Sliding her cloak on, Elizabeth ignored the man beside her as he buttoned his coat and gloves closed. She held her breath as she pulled her gloves on and tied her bonnet. If Elizabeth held her tongue she might be able to ignore him when he spoke, and speak he would. He had invited himself on her walk, Elizabeth's mother had agreed. This was a new level of torture that the young woman had not expected.

Darcy extended his arm as they stepped out of doors, Elizabeth took a step ahead of him, clasping her wrists behind her as she walked, ignoring him. Plato, instead of rushing past Elizabeth stuck by her side. With every step Plato bumped against her hip, nudging her away from the man. She couldn't help but grin at her favorite boy, at least someone was on her side.

"Miss Elizabeth," Darcy called take a quick step to catch her, "I had a purpose in wishing to walk with you."

Elizabeth's teeth tightened on the tip of her tongue, her head turned forward.

Darcy wanted to grab her arm, he wanted to spin her around to face him, and he wanted to see her eyes smile. "Do you believe your sister to be in love?"

Elizabeth started, her legs nearly giving out at the question, she steadied herself. "Jane," she asked incredulously.

"Yes," Darcy confirmed.

"I have never seen Jane so happy before," Elizabeth told him, tears pricking at her eyes. Mr. Darcy, she had a terrible feeling, was trying to remove his friend from Jane.

"Happy," Darcy pushed. "I see that she is happy, but I am not convinced she is as in love with Charles as he is with her."

This time Elizabeth whirled on her heel, "You do not know my sister, Jane is a shy girl, I shouldn't think you could read her so easily when she barely shares how she feels with me!"

Darcy's lips parted, her cheeks were flushed, with anger, he was sure, but she looked lovely all the same. Tapping his leg with his hand, he nodded, "Do you believe that they would be happy together?"

"Yes," Elizabeth nodded, "I don't think that Jane could be happy with anyone else now."

Darcy scanned her face, searching for any hint that she didn't believe what she said. There was nothing but pure honesty. "I trust your judgment."

She nodded sharply, before frowning, her nose crinkling slightly, "And what does it matter what your or I think!"

She spun and began to walk again, this time Darcy did grasp her arm. Gently he pulled her back, turning her to face him. "I care deeply for Charles, he is my greatest friend, I only wish him to be happy, and I was unsure if your sister returned his affection. I would not allow him to enter into an unequal or loveless marriage."

Elizabeth shivered as Darcy's hands clutched her upper arms, his thumbs rubbing slowly against her covered skin. He stared down at her, his lips parted slightly. Elizabeth gulped a breath of air, tipping her chin toward her chest and trying to shuffle back out of his reach.

After a moment of resistance, Darcy remembered himself and released her. She stumbled out of his reach her natural balance deserting her. They stood, facing each other in the snow as new flakes began to drift down. Plato growled at the man, but his objections went unnoticed. His mistress was too far in her thoughts to be aware of much, and that man was too busy staring at Plato's mistress.

Finally Elizabeth spoke, left hand sliding up her chest to clutch at the cross around her neck, "He is going to propose?"

Darcy scolded himself, she was shaking, her fingers trembling as they moved to grip the cross, and her voice was hesitant, unsure. He had done that. He had frightened her.

"Yes," he whispered voice hoarse with emotion. "Charles will propose. I've no doubt of it."

Elizabeth sniffed, breathing slowly to calm herself. She smiled at the man, determined to be civil for Bingley and Jane, "Shall we continue."

Darcy nodded, and this time when he extended his arm, she curled her little hand in the crook of his elbow. She was so tiny standing next to him, fragile. Darcy swore to himself that he would protect her no matter what. He would never allow her to come to any harm. In that single moment of time, Elizabeth was his, willingly, and Darcy was content.

* * *

"_Love is trembling happiness."_

_-Khalil Gibran_

* * *

A/N: 5/25. One problem down, next chapter should deal with another one and then we should get to the super fun stuff! I'm now going to frantically put the finishing touches on a portfolio due tomorrow, lots of love! Oh, and thanks for the lovely reviews, they always make me smile!


	6. Warmth

Disclaimer: I do not own Pride & Prejudice, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar. I also do not own the poem "O Nightingale! Thou Surely Art" (1807) by William Wordsworth. If you don't know the poem, go read it in full, I only write down part of it.

* * *

_06 December, 1811_

The joy that Mr. Darcy had left Elizabeth with the day before had faded. She was still inordinately pleased that Jane would be happy, even if Mr. Bingley had yet to make an offer. However, Mrs. Bennet had sent Lizzy to bed without supper for some reason that no one was quite sure of. Lizzy hadn't fought her mother on it. She was too tired of conflict. The young woman honestly just wanted to sleep and be free of the snide comments.

The exhaustion was only compounded when Mr. Bennet called Lizzy into his library. What had followed had left Lizzy on the brink of madness. Her eyes had darkened as she read the letter from her Uncle Phillips. Her father had only given her the letter because she had asked about Wickham and Darcy several days before. Wickham, had, apparently accumulated quite a debt in Hertfordshire as well as an attempted assault of one of the tavern maids. With every word, Lizzy's jaw had clenched, and her heart had squeezed painfully. These were validated claims, empirical truth, every account invalidated Mr. Wickham's story, and showed the pure defamation that Mr. Darcy had suffered and she had perpetuated.

Elizabeth set the letter down, her hands cold and shaking, her stomach rolling, she felt ill. She excused herself as politely and unaffectedly as she could, Plato following after her. In a daze, Lizzy shoved her boots on wandered outside. It wasn't until she was confronted by the sight of Mr. Darcy that Elizabeth came to her senses. She shivered as she stared at the man she had come to despise on the words of a liar. Plato barked loudly, startling Elizabeth so much that she stepped back slightly.

Darcy had been focused on mending yet another pen that had suffered his frustration with Caroline when he had a low, loud bark forced him to look up. There not so far from him was Elizabeth, frozen like a deer. She wore no coat, only a thin shawl, no bonnet, her curls in disarray, and no gloves, her fingers reddening from the cold. Blindly, Darcy set down his tools and rose from the blanket he sat on. In three long strides he had crossed the distance, pulled his long coat off and was wrapping it around her shaking form.

"Miss Elizabeth," Darcy peered at her, trying to reach her, "Elizabeth," he whispered softly.

She didn't respond, though she let out a half whimper, wetness gathering in her eyes though no tears fell. Darcy turned to stand beside her, one arm curling around her side in an entirely inappropriate manner, slowly, he guided her towards his abandoned blanket, cajoling her unresponsive form into sitting. Crouching before her, Darcy shed his gloves, tenderly sliding them over Elizabeth's stiff fingers before tucking her hands back into the too-long sleeves of his coat.

With warm fingers, he pushed back the dark curls that dripped in front of her face, his thumb brushing the arch of her cheek as he did. As he retracted his hand, Elizabeth tilted her head away from him and gave a shuddering sigh.

"Are you hurt," Darcy asked, eyes roving her face for any sign of pain.

Elizabeth shook her head minutely, "No."

Darcy frowned at the softness and the slight tremble that laced the word. "What has brought you to me in such a state," he wondered aloud.

Elizabeth blinked furiously, trying to rid her eyes of wetness and compose herself. "It is nothing."

"So nothing sent you out of the house without a coat or gloves," Darcy questioned.

She didn't respond, her eyes fluttering closed as she leaned back against the oak tree. Her exhaustion returned as she came back to herself, only now it was compounded by hunger, physical exertion, and emotion. Were Lizzy anyone else, she was certain she might have fainted, as she wasn't anyone else, Lizzy contented herself with closing her eyes and pushing down the burn of hunger.

Plato nudged his mistress' shoulder, for once not so annoyed that the man was infringing on his territory and his mistress. Elizabeth's eyes shot open at the soft pressure, her head swimming so intensely that she immediately planted her hands on the ground to brace herself.

"Miss Elizabeth," Darcy's husky voice pleaded. "You don't look well."

"I haven't eaten yet today," Elizabeth admitted, the lightheadedness made her speak more freely.

Darcy scowled, "Why not?"

"I was sent upstairs without dinner and I forgot when I left the house," she responded dazedly. Darcy scowled, he could guess who had sent her to bed without dinner, and he was furious. Reaching his hand to the edge of the blanket he retrieved a napkin that was tied tightly, with a quick tug, he had pulled the napkin apart revealing two cinnamon buns. He watched Elizabeth follow his movements, her eyes slightly unfocused. Slowly, he broke a bit of one of the rolls off and raised it to her lips. She frowned, her eyes flashing confusion.

"Eat," he ordered. She moved to raise her hands only to find she needed them to keep her balance. With reluctance, she parted her lips and accepted the sweet bread, her bottom lip tingling as Mr. Darcy's bare fingers brushed it.

He continued to feed her, slowly, patiently. Each time, it seemed, that his fingers would graze a different spot on her lip or remained on her skin just a little longer. When the first bun was gone, and half the second too, Lizzy shook her head feeling much better, her stomach no longer aching with hunger. Her head too was a little clearer, her emotions a little more settled, but her guilt and anger at herself rising at Mr. Darcy's kindness.

"Thank you, Sir," she glanced down, refusing to meet his unfaltering gaze.

He pressed his cooling hand against her forehead, "You are feeling better."

"Yes, I apologize for being so much trouble," she swallowed, setting her hands in her lap, only then realizing that she was wearing his gloves, his coat. She was _so_ warm, and when she breathed in, she could smell a mixture of cinnamon, leather, and warmth, every breath was heady, filling her throat with an impossible warmth that Elizabeth was sure was unique to the man in front of her. Elizabeth blinked in surprise as her a hollow feeling filled her, each breath filling that hollowness for a moment. It was strange feeling, she no longer felt weak and ill, but she did feel unsteady but not dizzy.

Mr. Darcy was smiling at her, Elizabeth realized, "You are not any trouble, Elizabeth."

She started at hearing only her Christian name from his lips, but she couldn't find the strength to scold him, she had so misunderstood him that she didn't have the strength to scold him with the fire she might have only a week before.

Darcy moved to sit beside her only to find her extending his gloves back to him, "You must be cold."

Opening his mouth to argue, he stopped when Plato moved to lay across Elizabeth's lap, one hand disappearing in his thick black coat. Without a word he slid his gloves back on, reveling in the warmth her hands had left behind, warmth that seeped into his skin making him want to touch her bare hand with his once more.

Instead, Darcy retrieved his pen and quickly finished mending it. Elizabeth watched him, her head resting against the trunk of the tree. After a several moments silence she spoke, her voice stronger and livelier than it had been in the hour they had sat together. "Why is it that you always seem to find me when I want to escape?"

"Perhaps," Darcy frowned, fingering a book he had brought along, "it is because I too want to escape."

Elizabeth huffed lightly, "It's not like you have an overbearing mother that hates you."

"No," Darcy agreed, "I have Caroline Bingley attempting to sink her claws into my hide."

The laugh burst forth from Lizzy, "That is unfortunate."

"Do you promise you won't turn me in," Darcy asked slyly.

Elizabeth's courage rose, "If you won't turn me in."

Darcy extended his hand, Elizabeth reaching out and clasping his hand in a firm handshake. "We have an accord," he intoned.

The smile that spread across Elizabeth's lips was very sincere this time. "So in our self-imposed exile, what shall we do to entertain ourselves?"

The smile Darcy wore turned to a smirk as he opened the book in his lap. "I could read to you," he offered.

Elizabeth nodded her head in agreement, seeing no other options and she was not so opposed to the idea.

"O NIGHTINGALE! thou surely art

a creature of a "fiery heart":-"

Elizabeth started at depth and warmth of his voice. It was soothing, warm and deep, but with an edge to it, a gravely emotion. Elizabeth's stomach dropped, she didn't think she had ever heard a man speak to her with such emotion, never so seriously. Her father always spoke with a humor, her Uncles with warmth, but Mr. Darcy spoke seriously, his voice and his manner imposing and strong.

"These notes of thine-they pierce and pierce;

Tumultuous harmony and fierce!

Thou sing'st as if the God of wine

Had helped thee to a Valentine;"

Darcy spoke firmly. His head tilting so he could see Elizabeth, her lips parted slightly, her pink tongue darting out to dampen her lips. Internally he crowed in triumph. He continued to recite the poem. Half daring Elizabeth to say it would starve what Darcy knew would grow between them.

"And somewhat pensively he wooed:

He sang of love, with quiet blending,

Slow to begin, and never ending;

Of serious faith, and inward glee;

That was the song-the song for me!"

The rhythm of the words bled into silence, Elizabeth's heart once again beating a little too fast. Frowning, she scratched Plato's head, attempting to distract herself. Plato leaned into her touch, his dark eyes blinking sleepily.

Darcy swallowed his jealousy, _that_ dog would be the end of him. _That_ dog was teasing him, taunting him. And Darcy was right, Plato _was_ taunting the man. Plato had exactly what that man wanted, and he would be damned if he didn't give the man a fight. Elizabeth glanced up at the sky, watching the pale clouds drift in front of the sun, and in that moment, Plato turned to the man, his years relaxed back, muzzle closed he smirked, Plato's eyes daring the man to take what he deemed his.

The vein in Darcy's neck pulsed heavily, he would not be thwarted by a dog, but at almost every turn that dog appeared seemingly just to spite him. Taking a slow breath, Darcy stripped his gloves off and reached across the distance to trace the curve of Elizabeth's jaw with a finger.

"You look flushed, are you feeling ill," he asked, forcing his face into a look of worry. When she jumped at his touch, her cheeks darkening his eyes sparked darkly.

"I'm quite well," Lizzy smiled as convincingly as he could. She was not well, her body was on edge, and she felt as if she was being pulled apart at the seams. Every breath left her with a lung-full of Mr. Darcy's scent. It was turning her in circles. She couldn't understand how he had such an effect on her.

Her mind and her body were making her take leave of her senses. She was noticing every detail about him. The way his dark hair twisted and curled against his face, the way his large hands encompassed hers, the strong, long fingers firm and warm against her skin, the way his voice left her short of breath, the way she never seemed to be able to catch her breath or that she was losing the urge to argue with him at every turn. It was infuriating, and he seemed so at ease, it was unfair, Lizzy decided, watching him smile at her from the corner of her eye.

* * *

_"When I write of hunger, I am really writing about love and the hunger for it, and warmth and the love of it and it is all one."_

— _M. F. K. Fisher_

* * *

A/N: 6/25. This chapter got away from me, started off with one idea and ended with another. Oh jeeze. I blame it on the espresso I had. It kicked me up and knocked me down. 8/18 pages written for my Senior Thesis, tomorrow I'm endeavoring to finish it. Thank you for the reviews, hope you enjoy this chappie. Love to you all!


	7. Patience

Disclaimer: I do not own Pride & Prejudice, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar.

* * *

_07 December, 1811_

Charles Bingley rubbed his hands together in excitement. He had spent half the previous day's afternoon plotting and making arrangements while Darcy once again disappeared off to the far reaches of the world. The man in question stepped through the door to the sitting room, "Ah, Darcy. Do you have plans today?"

Darcy finished tugging his gloves on, not immediately noticing his friend's agitation. "I am going to take Arcturus for a walk."

"Ah," Charles nodded slowly. "Well I have invited the Bennet family to come sledding and take luncheon with us."

Darcy froze in tightening his scarf, "The Bennets?"

"Yes, Man," Charles clapped his hands together in eagerness. "I sent the invitation out an hour ago!"

"Sledding," Darcy asked.

"Yes, Man," Charles repeated, not at all used to his friend being so curious about parties.

Darcy frowned, "The horses wouldn't be able to pull a cariole in this snow."

"Don't worry, Man," Charles clapped his friend on the shoulder. "I have this all planned out. Dog-sledding, I have some men out compacting the snow so they dogs can run better!"

Reluctantly, Darcy shed his gloves and scarf, "What caused this idea?"

"After you escorted Miss Elizabeth around the garden, Miss Jane told me how much Plato liked to play in snow, and ride in sleds with Miss Elizabeth."

Darcy nearly flinched at the mention of the dog, and were he any other man, he may have. Plato had quickly become the bane of his existence. The great bear of a dog was there at every turn, and even a bear like Darcy couldn't scare the animal off.

"In fact," Charles continued, "Miss Jane was rather surprised that Plato didn't befriend you right away. He has a very sweet temperament apparently."

Darcy gave a short low chuckle of laughter. "So I have heard."

"Well," Charles locked his arms behind his back, "I won't keep you from your walk."

Darcy gritted his teeth before forcing himself to relax, "Arcturus would likely prefer playing in the snow with others. I suspect he misses Georgiana."

"Excellent," Charles cheered. "Shall we go eat?"

Darcy followed the younger man, silently planning a way to spend time with Miss Elizabeth without drawing too much attention.

* * *

Elizabeth scowled at Lydia. "Oh come on, Lizzy! You never wear that bonnet!"

"Lydia," Elizabeth gave a long-suffering sigh, "I wore that bonnet yesterday."

Lydia's lower lip extended out a little further, "See, never!"

"Go," Elizabeth commanded, her voice wavering in irritation. "If you don't hurry we will late and Jane may never forgive you."

Lydia's nose scrunched up, "Stop being so…Lord, I don't know!"

After Lydia had stomped away, Elizabeth finished layering her clothing and tying her boots as tightly as she could. She was not pleased about what today would bring. She had been woken, sniffling slightly, by Jane, who had been woken by Lydia, who had been woken by their mother's screeches, who had been woken by Mrs. Hill. Mr. Bingley had extended an invitation to the Bennet family for a sledding party. Elizabeth was pleased for Jane, but she was absolutely dreading attending. With her luck, Lizzy would end up accompanied by Mr. Darcy. Not exactly something she wanted, especially after the previous day's events.

Once she had locked herself in her room Elizabeth had sobbed into Plato's fur. She had been, and was still, completely confused. Why had Mr. Darcy cared for her well being, he could have simply escorted her home rather than feed her, wrap her in his clothing, read to her…and poetry of all things.

Poetry, which he considered the food of love, it made no sense.

Breathing deeply, Elizabeth clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, smiling when Plato's head snapped upward. "Do you want to go for a walk, do want to sled, Plato?"

The Newfoundland lurched up onto his paws, his weight causing the bed to tilt slightly. With a heavy thump Plato propelled himself on to the floor, longue pink tongue lolling out of his mouth as he looked up at his mistress. Did his mistress really think he was going to sleep through what he darkly suspected was a plot to catch his mistress by that brazen man. With practiced ease, Plato followed his mistress down the stairs, tail slapping the railing, and nose just grazing the back of her dress.

* * *

The walk to Netherfield was longer than it seemed possible. Perhaps, Lizzy thought, it was due to Lydia and Kitty's excited chatter, or Mary's constant grumbling, or Jane's almost tangible nervousness. Despite her reluctance to join her siblings on this trip, Lizzy found herself leading the tour through the snow, Plato bouncing through the snow beside her.

It was slightly warmer today, Lizzy noted. Her breath didn't form a cloud as it left her lips as it had the day before. Perhaps the snow would melt a little, and Mr. Collins—who had still not left his room when Lizzy was in the house—would be able to return to Lady Catherine and give her as many compliments as could tumble from his quivering lips. Jane's soft whimper dragged Elizabeth from her mind. They were at the end of the bottom of the path which led to doors of Netherfield. Elizabeth slowed her feet, quickly falling to the back of the group, Plato burying his head in the snow giving her a perfect excuse for the change in speed.

All too soon they were at the door, and before Lydia had a chance to knock the door swung open revealing Mr. Bingley bouncing on the balls of his feet, eyes bright, smile displaying too many teeth. Elizabeth couldn't help but smile in return as she noticed the heat rising in Jane's cheeks. Yes, Elizabeth decided, they would be very happy together for the rest of their days.

Quickly, they were ushered into the house, through the halls and out to the garden. Elizabeth was pleasantly surprised to see several sleds and a great number of grey and white dogs hitched up to the sleds. Her heart stopped for a moment when she saw an all too familiar coat and an all too familiar form: Mr. Darcy. He was crouched in the snow, his gloved hands petting and rubbing the sled-dogs. After a moment he turned and rose, bowing slightly, and as protocol dictated, the five sisters returned the action with a small curtsey.

Before Elizabeth could object, Mr. Bingley had ushered Kitty and Lydia to one sled, helping them settle onto it along with Jane's help. Bingley's manservant stood on the back, to guide the dogs and the sled. Jane was then ushered into a second sled which Mr. Bingley took the helm of, while Mary settled on a snow-free bench already absorbed in her book.

"Miss Elizabeth," Darcy extended his hand palm up to her. She wavered for a moment, but she did place her hand in his, allowing him to lead her to a third sled.

She froze when his large hands tucked the blanket around her, his fingers grazing the fabric covering her hips. Lizzy stiffened as he leaned across her, her lungs once more filling with his scent. The spice of cinnamon, leather, and warmth, the scent of leather was fainter today, Lizzy inhaled again; the spice and warmth were melding together. She sighed, a short high keen escaping her lips. Startled, Elizabeth clamped her mouth shut and busied herself with looking at Plato. Plato's head rested on the edge of the sled, his eyes looking at her sweetly. He always knew how to settle her.

Darcy lingered as he tucked the blankets around Elizabeth, he didn't miss the startled whine that escaped her throat. She was responding to him. Making a snap decision, Darcy unwrapped the scarf from around his neck and draped it around hers. She turned to look at him, their eyes locking and her hand twitching up and wrapping around the edge of the scarf.

She wanted to speak, to tell him that it wasn't necessary, but the words wouldn't come. Instead she just looked down, only to find his fingers curling the scarf further around her, tucking the edges into her coat. Lizzy couldn't move, the gentle pressure of his fingers sucking the air from her lungs.

"There," he muttered softly before at last stepping away.

Elizabeth steeled herself and smiled up at the very tall gentleman, "Thank you, Sir."

In a few short moments Mr. Darcy had the sled in motion, the dogs lunging forward, kicking up snow and barking sharply. Elizabeth couldn't help but smile as Plato raced alongside the sled, his fur already encrusted with snow, leaving him patchy white in places rather than midnight black.

Elizabeth's mind drifted away and she was left to just react. She was laughing happily, reaching out to drag her fingers along Plato who turned to snap playfully at her. He barked low and loud, and was answered by a higher, not so loud bark. Elizabeth twisted her head to see Arcturus leaping on the other side. Tilting her head back against the cushion, Lizzy watched Mr. Darcy's face twitch into a smile. He looked carefree. She snuggled back into the sled. Her cheeks were burning even though her nose was chilled right through.

Then there was Lizzy's stomach, it was tingling, and his scent laced every breath she took. Every breath felt like a fire in her lungs, she felt weak. One more reason she was dreading being in his presence, she was all discombobulated.

The sled slowed to a stop, Elizabeth wrapped in her own thoughts—thoughts of how to escape this man and regain the ability to breathe properly.

"Elizabeth," he was sitting beside the sled. She started, and again she noted he had used only her Christian name. "Will you tell me now what had you so upset yesterday?"

She kept silent, her head tilted in his direction but she would not meet his eyes.

"I—you frightened me yesterday, please, tell me what happened," he pleaded, his head dipping, trying to catch her eyes with his.

The kindness in his tone brought Elizabeth's shameful behavior towards him back to her mind. A tear slid down her cheek, another and another following in quick succession.

Darcy's tongue slid between lips, wetting the flesh. "Please, I didn't—please don't cry, I didn't mean to upset you."

Elizabeth inhaled sharply, her breathing becoming shaky and turning to sobs. "How can you tease when I've treated you so terribly..."

Darcy frowned he had been the cause of her sorrow. It was his fault. "I don't understand."

"You were right, I willfully misunderstand people. I thought you an abominable man, hardly a gentleman," Elizabeth turned her head away angry at herself.

Darcy frowned as she spoke, she was shaking with emotion, the next few words were mumbled, but he heard a name he hated. Mr. Wickham. That _gentleman_ had been bone of contention between them.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she pleaded, one hand pressed against her mouth to stifle the sobs. "I was so blind! I believe him and I treated you unfairly when you've been so kind. How can you be so kind when I've treated you so ill?"

Darcy frowned. Elizabeth believed that she had been cruel to him? Yes, he had been displeased that she had sided with Wickham, but she had never been cruel. They had argued, but she had never maligned him, he deserved every scolding word she had uttered. He was prideful, he was vane at times, and he certainly was taciturn.

"I hadn't noticed, no," Darcy shook his head, voice soft, "I never thought unfair. You have always been brave and unfalteringly honest with me, I admire that about you, Elizabeth."

Her sobs quieted but she still shook. "I have been so determined to hate you, almost from the moment we met. I don't understand you at all. Your character is more a mystery than anything before in my life. I am so lost, when I'm meant to be angry with you I'm smiling at you! What have you done to me?"

Darcy wanted desperately to cradle her face in his hands, to wipe away her tears, to kiss away her sorrow, but he couldn't, not yet.

Elizabeth started when he rose to his feet in one smooth motion. He bowed deeply, "Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Fitzwilliam Darcy."

She exhaled a noise of surprise, her mouth flashing into a smile before fading to puzzlement.

He extended his hand to her, "Anything you wish to know, you have only to ask of me," when she supplied her gloved hand he pressed his lips to the back of it. Darcy's heart thudded heavily. It was from this moment on that he would work tirelessly to convince her to have him, to love him, to marry him, and he would not take 'no' for an answer.

Darcy would have to have a little patience if he wanted her to fall so deeply in love with him that she could see no other life than one with him.

* * *

"_He that can have patience, can have what he will."_

_-Benjamin Franklin_

* * *

A/N: MM, 7/25. I got mostly through my Senior Thesis. I have about four sections to write, which isn't as much as it sounds. I'll do a little more tonight and finish it tomorrow. Thank you all for the outpouring of reviews, they really make me giddy. So this chapter really take the drama and throws it out the window. But let's be honest, as I told my friend this afternoon, if I was going to remove most of the obstacles, I was going to have Plato and Darcy metaphorically duke it out, I mean come on, what's the point if there isn't a little fluffy drama. Love you all, talk to you tomorrow!


	8. Content

Disclaimer: I do not own Pride & Prejudice, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar.

* * *

_07 December, 1811_

Sledding had quickly turned into romping in the snow. Lydia and Kitty were giggling and playing with one of the younger sled-dogs, Jane and Bingley were strolling along, both blushing heavily, and Mary was still absorbed in her book, which left Darcy and Elizabeth to their own devices once more. Plato was doing his best to capture and keep his mistress' attention. He was rolling in the snow, digging his head into the whiteness and then tumbling over to her and trying to climb onto her lap.

Darcy quirked a brow, Arcturus sitting obediently beside him. "He seems excitable."

Elizabeth nodded, "Plato has always loved the snow, even when he was so small he got lost in it."

"That is hardly the case now," Darcy commented. "He has grown into quite the protector."

Elizabeth giggled, "Yes, his breed are known to be protectors. I don't think I could ever live without a Newfoundland now that I have Plato."

Inwardly, Darcy groaned. "He seems very attentive."

"Yes," Elizabeth smiled as Plato once again attempted to jump on top of her, very nearly knocking her the bench. It was only Darcy's arm quickly moving around her back that kept her from falling. "See," Lizzy giggled as she patted Plato on the head, "he just wants attention."

Darcy's arm retracted, he nodded slowly. "He doesn't seem too fond of me."

Elizabeth's cheeks turned red, "That may be my fault. Plato sleeps with me, and I don't sleep well unless I talk to someone before bed. Plato tends to my partner for that. He heard quite a bit of my ranting about you."

Well that at least explained the cool reception that Darcy received from the dog. "Perhaps you could put a good word in for me now that we've started again."

"I suppose that would only be right," Elizabeth glanced down at her lap. "I had no idea that you cared so much for others' opinions of you."

Darcy's fingers twitched around his walking cane, "I don't, that is to say, I care about what you think of me. Plato, there, always seems to glare at me but turn sweet when you have his attention."

Elizabeth shook her head with a laugh, "Now you are telling tales. Plato has never glared in his life, he is too sweet for that."

Darcy scoffed, "Believe me, Miss Elizabeth, that dog of yours quite capable of glaring. He looks at me as if I am going to steal you away at any moment."

"Well you aren't," Elizabeth smiled sweetly, scratching behind Plato's ears, "so you and he have nothing to worry about."

Darcy swallowed, "You are so sure of this, Miss Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth froze for split second before continuing her attentions to Plato. Her heart and lungs and stomach had settled since her tears had dried. She had hoped that those sensations were from guilt or annoyance. A fresh flash of fire in her lungs proved her quite wrong.

"I am," she answered his question, "Sir, you shouldn't tease Plato, he may be sweet, but if he sees a threat he can be quite protective."

"I believe you, and so I won't tease," Darcy smiled to himself. He wasn't teasing, and he wouldn't. Elizabeth, sweet Elizabeth just didn't realize how seriously he meant his words and actions.

* * *

Soon enough, Elizabeth found herself indoors, sitting in an all too familiar sitting room, Fitzwilliam Darcy beside her. Charles and Lydia not so unsurprisingly were carrying much of the conversation as they waited for luncheon to be served.

"It is so boring being stuck inside all day," Lydia scowled. "We haven't been to Meryton in weeks and weeks!"

Jane shook her head good-naturedly, "Lydia, it has only been a week and a few days at most."

Kitty giggled, "It is still so boring to be cooped up in the house with Mr. Collins! Lizzy got the better deal, he won't leave his room when she's in the house."

Darcy turned to Elizabeth, "What are your favorite books, Miss Elizabeth?"

"I couldn't choose, I like so many, but I suppose if I had to choose a genre, it would have to be travelogues."

At least, Darcy thought, she hadn't dismissed him. Progress, any progress, was progress he welcomed. "You wish to travel?"

"Doesn't everyone," Elizabeth asked, her eyes drifting to the fire, Plato and Arcturus napped before it, almost like a painting.

Darcy nodded, rubbing the fingers of his left hand together idly, "You wouldn't miss your family?"

"Jane and my father I would, but I think, you can be too close to family sometimes. Distance is not always a bad thing," Elizabeth mused, she hadn't considered missing her family before.

Darcy leaned a little closer, meaning to ask her another question only to have Caroline Bingley appear before him.

"Mr. Darcy," she cooed saccharinely, "You must be terribly bereft that we are here in the country when we had planned to go and visit _dear_ Georgiana. I know Charles was quite heartbroken. Not, of course, Miss Elizabeth, that we don't find Hertfordshire quite charming."

Elizabeth forced the smile on her face to remain, not willing to allow Caroline Bingley to see her temper flare.

Darcy didn't have the chance to respond as she was called away by Louisa Hurst who sat beside her husband conversing quietly.

A moments silence stretched into two moments and then Darcy bucked up his courage. "We had planned to spend Christmas in London, and at the time, I was unsure of your sister's feelings, so I agreed to help keep him in London."

"I see," Elizabeth replied guardedly, slowly.

"Please understand, Miss Elizabeth," Darcy bowed his head slightly, "I wasn't aware of Miss Jane's affections, I am sure I would have regretted my actions had they come to pass."

Inhaling deeply, Elizabeth forced herself to think about his actions in the new light of starting over. She could not blame him, had she been in his position, Lizzy could not say she would not do the same.

"I do, understand, that is. I cannot blame you," Elizabeth admitted. "You wanted the best for your friend."

Darcy mentally swore he was hearing things. Perhaps this was truly the difference between a supposedly cruel Elizabeth and a sweet loving Elizabeth. The thought tempted Darcy to think about how she might speak to him if she loved him completely.

"Thank you," he told her humbly.

"No, I would do the same, if it were Jane."

"You were right then," Darcy smiled, "that we are both cut from the same cloth."

Elizabeth blushed, "You had to bring up what I said?"

Darcy chuckled, "You were right, you were always honest with me."

"I was impertinent," Elizabeth shook her head. "I cannot believe some of the things I said to you."

"Elizabeth, Miss Elizabeth," Darcy corrected himself, "No one, not even my own sister speaks to me as you do. I think I would miss that if you decided not to be impertinent."

"Oh, please can we not talk of anything else," Elizabeth nearly begged.

Darcy chuckled. "Will you tell me then where you would most like to travel?"

"Ireland," Elizabeth admitted. "I've read a great deal about the landscapes and the churches. I would enjoy seeing them myself."

"When I was younger, my father took my sister and I. Georgiana was too young really to remember, but I loved it, I spent many hours running in the fields," Darcy reminisced.

"She seems very sweet, your sister," Elizabeth admitted. "How is her schooling going?"

"She doesn't enjoy it," Darcy confided, "when she was younger she would hide in the house and force me to find her out before she would do her work."

The laughter was warm, Elizabeth smiled. "I think that she is not alone in that pursuit. I know that if I had an older brother I would forever be trying to get him to play with me."

Darcy smirked. "When she was a child she would throw the loudest tantrums and interrupt my father's work. I was _never_ that childish."

Elizabeth bit her cheek to keep from smiling, "Oh, I am sure you were never that childish, Mr. Darcy."

"No, never."

Elizabeth smiled up at him sweetly, "So you never ran off before a lesson."

"Never," Darcy sniffed. "And you, Miss Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth snickered, "I think you can guess, Mr. Darcy, how I misbehaved as a child."

"Is that, by any chance, your propensity to walk everywhere at anytime," Darcy returned the smirk.

"Yes," Lizzy intoned. "If I wasn't hiding beneath my father's desk, I was outside."

Darcy chuckled, picking his watch from his pocket and twirling it between his fingers. Elizabeth's eyes tracked his movements. It seemed that the fire in her lungs was not the only abnormal behavior she was experiencing. Lizzy's mouth felt dry, her lips chapped. Belatedly, Elizabeth folded her hands together tightly, to stop the tremors that threatened to betray her. Mr. Darcy was wreaking havoc on her, Elizabeth decided, and no amount of determination could keep it at bay.

Their conversation slipped to silence, and Elizabeth accepted it, her eyes drifting to Plato. Plato was slipping in and out of consciousness, his eyes blinking blearily. Elizabeth couldn't help but smile and him, he had long been the only man in her life, well, besides her father. From Plato, Elizabeth looked to Kitty and Lydia who were happily irritating Caroline Bingley—and Elizabeth couldn't think of a person who deserved the irritation more. Jane and Charles were whispering to each other, and Elizabeth couldn't help but smile.

"What," Mr. Darcy broke the silence, "is so amusing?"

"Nothing, I'm just…content," Elizabeth decided. "Jane is happy and there is nothing wrong with the world."

Darcy watched Elizabeth, her face was soft as she looked at her siblings, a faint smile playing at the corner of her mouth. Yes, he decided, Elizabeth was at last becoming comfortable with him. Although now he wondered why she had accepted his request for a dance at the ball.

"Was dancing with me such a torture," he asked, praying she would be kind.

Lizzy blinked, "No, I—I had not expected such an invitation, and I was unsettled. You dance very well, Mr. Darcy."

Darcy frowned, it was not a true answer, "And the time before that, when in this room you rejected me?"

"Was there any other answer I could have given in response to such teasing?"

"I was not teasing," Darcy admitted.

Elizabeth bit her tongue, Mr. Darcy was vexing her very well. "I do not understand, you had spent the better part of the evening arguing with me."

"And," Mr. Darcy chuckled, "as I have said, you would hardly speak to me if I did not enrage you."

Elizabeth huffed, that was hardly true. Well, perhaps it was a little true. She had tried to ignore him as much as humanly possible, but sometimes ignoring Darcy had not been possible. She could not always ignore him, especially when he had sought her out.

Shoving such thoughts from her mind, Elizabeth turned back towards Mr. Darcy, if he truly wanted to being again, he would suffer as much as she did.

"You have a house in Derbyshire," Elizabeth asked.

Darcy nodded, "Yes. I grew up there and it remains my favorite place to spend time."

"And are you really a _bear_ when you are not at home," she prodded.

"I can be," Darcy admitted. "I do enjoy being the master of my own life, and I find that when I am in town I have little control in my fate."

Elizabeth hummed softly, "That is true. Society can be a bit constraining."

"Perhaps I am just not suited to society," Darcy offered.

"Really," Elizabeth smiled, "but you are single, and what you want does not matter. You are, the property of every single woman in society."

Darcy smiled at the woman beside him, "Then perhaps I should marry and become the property of only one woman."

* * *

"_I figure if I have my health, can pay the rent and I have my friends, I call it '__content__.'__"_

_-Lauren Bacall_

* * *

A/N: 8/25. Finished my thesis this afternoon and then started this. Half a bottle of wine later I finished it, so I apologize if the second half is confusing or crappy. Now I'm going to take a walk to get some Ben & Jerry's and escape the pot-luck that is happening in my kitchen. Thanks for the reviews. Love!


	9. Bending

Disclaimer: I do not own Pride & Prejudice, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar. I also do not own the short excerpt from _Letters Written during a Short Residence in Sweden, Norway, and Denmark_ by Mary Wollstonecraft.

* * *

_09 December, 1811_

The bed beneath Elizabeth bounced, forcing the young woman to open her eyes. "Jane," she asked blearily, "what are you doing?"

"Oh, Lizzy," Jane giggled. The eldest Bennet was not used to acting in a manner more fitting to the youngest, but there was Jane practically jumping on her sister's bed.

"Yes, Jane," Elizabeth propped herself up on her elbows, sleep still pulling at her body.

Jane leaned in close and kissed Lizzy's cheek, "You hid in Papa's library yesterday and Mama was locked in her room all day."

Lizzy groaned, rolling over and burying her face against Plato's neck. Jane was not so easily swayed, "Come on, Lizzy! You should be jumping with joy, what with Mr. Collins having left by the time we returned from Netherfield and Mr. Darcy seemed quite attentive."

It was true that by the time the Bennet sisters had returned from Netherfield and the rather impromptu sledding party, Longbourn was pleasantly vacant of Mr. Collins. Lizzy's joy had been short lived. One of the maids had admitted that Charlotte Lucas, dear Charlotte, had invited Mr. Collins to dine with her family, and shortly after his bags had disappeared from the house. Mrs. Bennet's furor had been renewed. She had been praying that Lizzy would come around and save them all. The snow had been a blessing for Mrs. Bennet, however, Lizzy was determined, and Mr. Collins did not possess a constitution strong enough to stand toe to toe with Elizabeth Bennet.

Jane nudged Lizzy's back, "Wake up Lizzy! You are free, Mama is still in her room, and Papa has been out for a walk already. It is only you and Plato still abed."

"Jane," Lizzy moaned. "I have been avoiding that man for days and days, I am worn out. Even _I_ can only walk so far in such cold before wanting to hide away in bed."

Jane sighed, smiled and curled up beside her sister. "Where have you been walking to?"

"Oakham Mount," Lizzy replied.

"I should have known," Jane laughed, her fingers threading through Lizzy's dark curls. "You have been distant lately. Is there something wrong?"

Elizabeth rolled over, facing her sister. "No, Jane, everything is fine. The early snow, I think, must have thrown me off. I am perfectly happy."

Jane shook her head, Lizzy was smiling, "Alright." The blonde's eyes lit with a spark of mischief, "Now tell me of Mr. Darcy, what you speak about?"

"The weather," Elizabeth fibbed, they had, at some point discussed the conditions beyond the large windows of Netherfield's sitting room.

"Oh, Lizzy," Jane cried in frustration. "Please tell me, if you do not I'll have to go be entertained by Lydia and she is mourning the loss of the militia."

Elizabeth leaned closer and kissed Jane's forehead, "I will only say, that Mr. Darcy is not so terrible after all." Jane's brow crinkled in confusion so Elizabeth continued, "I was very wrong to believe Mr. Wickham, and I should not have treated Mr. Darcy so badly."

"Mr. Darcy did not seem angry at all," Jane puzzled, "he seemed very…happy."

"And that," Elizabeth sighed, "Jane, is the miracle of it. I treated him abominably and he brushed it aside, he has been kind beyond words."

"See, there," Jane smiled, as sweet as ever, "Mr. Darcy is not so cold and proud as we thought him. Perhaps there is hope yet for him."

"Hope for what, Jane," Elizabeth asked, her sister's eyes too bright to be well meant.

Jane giggled, "I don't know. Why don't you tell me?"

Elizabeth shook her head and dragged the covers up over her face, she was not going to deal with Jane's silliness when she was perfectly warm and sleep was lapping at her mind.

* * *

Sleep did not hold Lizzy long. Plato's weight hadn't helped either. The dog had decided it was time to get up and slowly edged over to Elizabeth before crawling on top of her, doing a very good impression of a lap dog. Plato peered at his mistress, his breath fanning her face so strongly that she sneezed.

"Plato," Elizabeth groaned as she tried to move. She had very little success in that effort, Plato was not so light as to be easily moved or even swayed. "You know I cannot move if you do not release me?"

Plato settled his head down on her chest, his nose firmly tucked beneath her chin. "I don't think you understand the problem we are having," Elizabeth shook her head in good humor. "Do you want to go for a walk?"

Plato didn't respond, he merely closed his eyes and nuzzled further into Lizzy's neck. The problem, Plato had, was that he had a sneaking suspicion that his mistress was going to walk to their favorite haunt, and subsequently be interrupted by certain annoyance of a human. The man may not have turned out to be quite so dastardly as was suspected, but that didn't mean Plato liked him.

"Shall we stay inside," Elizabeth asked.

Plato's dark eyes opened, blinked slowly before lifting his head slightly before settling back down. Elizabeth sighed, Plato was being ridiculously obstinate. He didn't want to leave the bed, but he woke her fully only to keep her trapped. Darkly she wondered if Mr. Darcy hadn't been right about Plato—he seemed a little devious.

"I think," she muttered, "you are being purposefully troublesome."

Plato only blinked, his tail wagging gently. Of course Plato would not get in serious trouble, he was just too sweet to be angry at. With a great deal of wiggling and cajoling, Elizabeth managed to extract herself from beneath Plato only to have him leap from the bed and stand before her door, preventing any escape.

"You are up to something," Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, one finger fixed pointedly on the dog.

* * *

Once Lizzy had escaped her room, she had settled in beside Kitty to help the younger girl with her embroidery. Lydia was sulking, Mary was tinkering at the piano, and Jane was staring out the window her own embroidery forgotten in her hands.

"No," Elizabeth frowned, "Kitty you need to stitch a little tighter, here, wrap the loose thread around your pinky to keep it out the way."

Distractedly, Elizabeth guided her sister's hand, "There, now try."

Kitty's stitches were a little neater, less loose, at least. Lydia had all but abandoned learning how to embroider, and Kitty had followed. Kitty's face was scrunched in concentration, she was really trying to improve her skills. Caroline had gotten to her. Kitty didn't have Elizabeth's courage or Lydia's bravado that bordered on ignorance. Kitty had spent her young years trying to live up to Jane thanks to Mrs. Bennet, and trying to be her father's favorite as Elizabeth was. Mary hadn't cared for Kitty, and it wasn't until Lydia came along that Kitty felt she had someone to talk to. Kitty had been overlooked and she had hated it, so she had taken after Lydia. Only now, Lydia was too foolish to see how incompetent she was. Kitty refused to turn out like Lydia was.

Re-focusing on her stitches, Kitty looked up at her sister for approval. Elizabeth smiled, resting a hand on Kitty's shoulder, "Good, now you just need to practice."

Turning slightly, Elizabeth took up her knitting. She had begun knitting it the day before, Lizzy had selected a deep forest green yarn and begun the stitches for a scarf. Lizzy hadn't intended to make a scarf, she had started out with a pair of mittens in mind, a nice pair for Hill. Except, somewhere around when Lizzy's mind had started to wander, the mittens had turned into a thick scarf. She was nearly through, and it was still irking her at how it had become a scarf.

Tying off the last row, Elizabeth sat back, tucking her needles away. Smirking, she wrapped the scarf around Plato's neck, looping it into a gentle knot. "Very handsome, Plato."

Plato sat a little straighter, the scarf swaying lightly against his chest. Elizabeth grinned, her hands reaching out to scratch his ears. She rubbed his head furiously, his tongue poking between his teeth, panting slightly at the attention.

Elizabeth smirked as a thought came to her. With Plato's new scarf, he certainly needed to test it out, to make sure it was warm enough. Not speaking to her dog, Elizabeth stood up and left the room, Plato followed only to find his mistress already half-dressed for going outdoors. She was tying her boots when Plato huffed lightly, the air snuffling across Lizzy's neck. She could only smirk, Plato may have gotten the best of her earlier, but she was just as clever as he was.

Plato didn't have much of a choice but to follow when Elizabeth leapt across the threshold of the house. She landed, feet together, in the snow. "Come on, Plato!"

With quick steps, Elizabeth started off, Plato following, one end of the dark green scarf trailing in the snow and picking up stray flakes. Plato had half a mind to turn back and cuddle in bed, however, he was a protector, and no matter how little he wanted to be out of doors with the possibility of meeting _that_ man, he could hardly abandon his mistress.

Plato growled when they reached the old oak tree. The man was sitting beneath it, his dog beside him. Luckily for Plato, the growl had disappeared on the breeze, leaving him completely innocent if Elizabeth happened to catch the glare Mr. Darcy threw the big dog.

Elizabeth did not see the glare, she only saw Mr. Darcy sitting under her tree once again. He was lounging with one knee bent up, and the other leg extended out. Lizzy swallowed at the soft expression on his face. He looked very unguarded, and, she couldn't help but think, rather charming. No, she shook herself and marched on, she certainly did not think Mr. Darcy was handsome. Impossible. But he was, Elizabeth sighed to herself, Mr. Darcy was and always had been _very_ handsome.

Mr. Darcy stood and bowed slightly, the book in his hand falling to the side for a moment. "Miss Elizabeth, what fortune to see you here."

Elizabeth wanted to shake her head in disbelief, instead, she smiled, "Yes, how surprising."

"Please, join me," Darcy offered, his voice remaining just level enough to ward off any notion that he was begging.

"I thank you, Sir," Elizabeth found no option but to sit down on the blanket beside the man. The book returned to his lap, he opened it and returned his focus to it. Elizabeth sat in silence, Plato sitting beside her, one wary eye on Darcy.

After several long moments and several pages, Elizabeth could no longer bear the silence. "What are you reading, Sir?"

Darcy glanced up, closing the book, "Letters from Mary Wollstonecraft during her stay in Sweden, Norway, and Denmark. Have you read it?"

"I have not, is it any good," Elizabeth wondered.

Darcy smiled, he had not had to initiate _this_ conversation. "I am enjoying it, would you like me to read it to you?"

Elizabeth nodded her head slightly, "I would enjoy that."

"Very well," Darcy flipped to the first page. "'Eleven days of weariness on board a vessel not intended for the accommodation of passengers have so exhausted my spirits, to say nothing of the other causes, with which you are already sufficiently acquainted…"

Elizabeth found herself relaxing with every warm deep word that Mr. Darcy spoke. She was certain she hadn't truly listened to anything beyond the first few words before all she could hear was his voice and not what he spoke. As the breeze threaded through the trees and across the open fields, Elizabeth shuddered and unconsciously leaned closer to the heat that was Mr. Darcy.

Darcy, himself, could only smile, Elizabeth was bending slowly to him. She had not run from him today, she had accepted his invitation to sit, she had initiated conversation. Elizabeth, Darcy was almost certain, not fully listening. She was blinking slowly, a small smile etching its way across her lips. Yes, Miss Elizabeth Bennet was coming around to him.

* * *

"_You get tragedy where the tree, instead of bending, breaks."_

_-Ludwig Wittgenstein_

* * *

A/N: 9/25. I think I have too much fun with Plato and Darcy. I'm sort of waiting for the day I can leave them alone in a room together and see who comes out alive…On another note, after tomorrow I will be done school for a month or so before my student-teaching beings. Thank you again for all the lovely reviews, now I can do a little studying, have a little wine, and a little Chocolate Therapy B&Js. See you all tomorrow!


	10. Regret

Disclaimer: I do not own Pride & Prejudice, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar.

* * *

_10 December, 1811_

Elizabeth woke early on the tenth day of December. It may have been how utterly exhausted she had found herself after returning home. Elizabeth couldn't actually believe how ridiculously relaxed she had been in Mr. Darcy's company. She had been so used to being on her guard around him, for reading every word he spoke for malice or a double-meaning. It was strange to just be able to listen for once.

Of course she had heard him speak before, and in various manners. He had read her poetry, but still, then, she had been on her guard. Now, now that Lizzy had forcefully set her first impression aside, she noticed so much more. His voice was rough, but not in a broken way. It was smooth, but there was some aspect of it that rolled like gravel. It made her skin flush, she had never heard a man's voice quite so clearly before. It was strange, Elizabeth had been so determined to "die an old maid," as Lydia would say, but it seemed that the moment Netherfield had be let her whole world had been turned upside down without her permission.

With her mind firmly occupied chasing a stray thought that would do no good. Really, it did no one any good for Elizabeth to think about Mr. Darcy. Despite their tentative…friendship, Mr. Darcy was still engaged to his cousin. Not that Elizabeth _cared_, no not at all. And Elizabeth was certainly not leaving Plato still asleep to sneak off for a walk. A walk where, with her luck as of late, for better or worse, she would encounter a certain gentleman.

* * *

No, Elizabeth thought, nothing else mattered. She had been so wrapped up in the fast paced meetings and events of the last week or so that she had forgotten to stop and enjoy herself. Elizabeth had, according her mother, been born wild. She was not used to being stuck in a house, and as much as she loved the snow, she missed being able to wander for hours. Winter always brought a shorter day. It seemed, to Lizzy, that she would only just relax when the shadows grew too long to ignore.

But today the sun was only just rising, and Lizzy remembered how much she had always enjoyed how the sunlight glinted off the snow, making it seem as though thousands of stars had fallen from the sky just to twinkle at her. It was silly, but Lizzy enjoyed being silly sometimes. Not nearly as silly as Lydia, no one could be as silly as Lydia, but everyone deserved to be a little silly now and again.

Leaning down, Lizzy dipped her hand into a fresh layer of snow. She curled her gloved fingers into a fist, compacting the powder into a heavy cake. With an ease that came from running wild, Elizabeth tossed the palm sized globe into the air with one hand and catching it with the other. Fondly, Elizabeth remembered Charlotte's eldest brother had come home from school one year and had promptly showed off his juggling skills. Nathaniel had been quite pleased with himself, he had tried to teach Lizzy, but Charlotte had kicked her brother in the shins for trying to steal her friend away. It was still a good joke between the pair of women. Nathaniel, when he was in Meryton, had come to avoid talking to Elizabeth if Charlotte was in sight. No matter how large or old a man grew he still needed to fear a younger sister.

The playful attempt at juggling was abandoned as Elizabeth came into range of the oak, she was alone, so she indulged herself. Taking a step back, Elizabeth pulled her arm back and launched the snowball at the tree. The branch she hit shook lightly, a chunk of snow dropping to the ground. Elizabeth couldn't help but grin at her tiny triumph, some things, no matter how old you got were still fun.

* * *

Darcy peered into the distance as he saw a slim figure crest a hill not so far from him. He waited another moment, until they were closer before deciding that it _was_ Miss Elizabeth. It took several minutes, but when they reached one another, Darcy couldn't help but smile. She looked better than she had in days, almost back to her cheery self.

"Miss Elizabeth," Darcy inclined his head.

"Mr. Darcy," she replied lightly, the smile on her face never wavering.

Darcy wanted to return the smile and sweep her into his arms. He couldn't, so instead he asked her a question that was buzzing around his head. "I had thought you only walked to Oakham Mount?"

"No," Elizabeth's hazel eyes sparkled brightly, the green and gold flecks glinting gaily. "Variety is the spice of life!"

"That gives it all its flavor," Mr. Darcy returned, a smug grin flashing across his face.

Elizabeth laughed softly, "You seem to like poetry quite a bit, Mr. Darcy."

"My father often read to my mother," Darcy admitted, "those times are some of the fondest memories of my childhood."

Elizabeth had nothing to say to that, nothing that would not sound silly. "Well, it was lovely meeting you, but I must be going," Lizzy curtsied once more, before stepping around Mr. Darcy and striding the way he had come.

Darcy, not one to be dismissed spun on his heel and followed after Elizabeth. "May I accompany you, Miss Elizabeth? I am afraid that after all these weeks here in Hertfordshire, I do not know the land as well as you."

Elizabeth paused a moment, allowing the gentleman to come level with her. "Are you," Lizzy tried to suppress her grin, "Mr. Darcy, admitting you have gotten lost?"

Darcy stared straight ahead, blindly extending his arm to escort Elizabeth, she took his arm, and they continued on. After a few steps Darcy deigned to answer, "I admit to nothing, Miss Elizabeth, only that I am stranger here, and you the expert."

"Clever," Elizabeth conceded. "Although you had best not allow Miss Bingley hear you such things, she may think it sacrilegious of you."

A throaty chuckle was her reward, "You seem very much back in sprits today, what has prompted this?"

Elizabeth leaned a little on Darcy's arm as she navigated a sunken chunk of snow, an indicator of burrow of some sort she would rather not step in. "Mr. Collins has still not returned."

Darcy glanced down at his walking partner, his eyes taking in how relaxed she seemed, he had never seen her so in his company. "I was not aware your cousin had left."

"Yes," Lizzy held down the beam ing smile, "when we arrived home after sledding he was gone. My dear friend, Charlotte Lucas, has taken him off our hands."

Darcy's nerves tingled, joy shooting through his body at an impossible speed. "May I guess that your mother was not pleased ?"

"You might say that," Elizabeth agreed easily. "My father, however, is inordinately pleased to have his house and his table back to himself."

"And you, Miss Elizabeth, you do not regret your decision?"

Elizabeth laughed before catching herself, "I will live with my decision quite well, I think."

"That is good, regrets are terrible burdens on us."

"So you will regret nothing when you are married," Elizabeth wondered.

Darcy's heart thudded loudly in his chest, "No, only, perhaps, that it took so long."

Elizabeth's smile faltered, but only inwardly, she was too courageous a person to be cowed by the truth, not again. "That must be a great comfort to your cousin."

"Fitz," Darcy's brow furrowed. "How so?"

Elizabeth blinked in confusion, "I meant your Cousin Anne."

"Ahh," Darcy stopped walking, bringing Elizabeth to a halt as well, and turned to face her. "I should have known that _that_ particular piece of knowledge would come to light. My Aunt Catherine has been determine to match Anne and I from even before Anne had been born. My Aunt tells anyone who will listen how her Anne is to marry me. No matter the protestation Anne or I give."

Darcy searched her eyes, seeing only slight curiosity and a little confusion, he continued, "I can only guess that you heard of my supposed engagement from your cousin?"

"You would be correct," Elizabeth nodded and began to walk again. Her heart was thudding in her ears and she felt a little lightheaded. "So if you are not engaged, and you are, nearly thirty, oh, what society must say."

Darcy chuckled, "That is why I only go out into society with Charles, he distracts almost all of the mothers."

"How lucky of you," Elizabeth teased.

"And you Miss Elizabeth," Darcy probed, "surely your cousin was not the first man to propose marriage?"

Elizabeth tilted her head to the side, thinking, before smiling coyly. "Well there was Nathaniel, he was very sweet on me."

Darcy swallowed heavily, "And?"

"Oh," Lizzy sighed, "His sister warned him off, she didn't particularly want to share me. Charlotte has always been a little possessive, and I _was_ only twelve at the time and Charlotte had a nasty habit of kicking him in the shin when he came near."

Darcy laughed, Elizabeth joining in. Darcy quieted after a few moments and frowned pensively. "It occurs to me, Miss Elizabeth, that we have something in common."

"Oh, do tell," Elizabeth prodded.

"Matriarchs in our family have, unknowns to us, affianced us to our cousins," Darcy leaned down a little, his left hand coming to rest on her left hand with was nestled in the crook of his right elbow.

His serious tone elicited a light giggle from Elizabeth, "You are right. Perhaps, Mr. Darcy, we should be on our guards, you never know you might end up married to your Cousin Fitz if you are not careful."

Darcy chuckled, "If that is the case, I beg of you to put me out of my miser, Miss Elizabeth. And you, who might you end up engaged to?"

Elizabeth shrugged, "I suppose I might end up with my cousin Edward, he's not so bad, he's quite sweet, and he always brings me flowers."

Darcy's eyes flashed in annoyance, sometimes her tone made it hard to determine if Lizzy was teasing him or not. "When may I wish you joy?"

"It may be some time," Lizzy inhaled deeply, pretending to look quite serious. "We should, I suppose wait until he can tie his own shoes."

"You are a tease, Miss Elizabeth," Darcy growled playfully, a little too near her ear. He watched in triumph as her pulse thrummed in her throat.

Elizabeth bit her lip, "And there is nothing you might do about it."

Darcy, not accustomed to losing such bouts of wit decided a slight change of topic might help him recover some of his senses. "Are you quite fond of your young cousin?"

"Very," Lizzy smiled broadly. "I love all of my young cousins, Edward is my favorite, though."

"And why is that," Darcy asked, his mind already racing to thoughts of a very pregnant Elizabeth sitting on the green grass of Pemberley.

Elizabeth chuckled, "He was the only one brave enough to befriend Plato."

Darcy repressed a swear. That dog was going to, well, dog him all his days, it seemed. "Dare I ask where Plato is this morning?"

A blush tinted her cheeks, "I snuck out. Plato has been a little grouchy as of late, and I was in such a good mood I didn't want to fight him."

Darcy chuckled darkly, he could certainly call today a win. Elizabeth had , perhaps unwittingly, chosen him over her loyal companion. Now, all he had to do was show up that dog in front of Elizabeth.

"I hope," Darcy smiled gently, "that you do not regret leaving Plato at home today, Miss Elizabeth."

* * *

"_Never regret. If it's good, it's wonderful. If it's bad, it's experience."_

_-Victoria Holt_

* * *

A/N: 10/25. All finished with my school work, now I just need to pack up all my things and do some cleaning. Also, it seems that when I have plan for how these chapters are going to go it flies out the window. Oh! Right, I remember what I was going to say. Today we hit 100 reviews, and I just want to thank all of my wonderful reviewers who definitely make writing this story worth it, no matter how frustrating it is to not let Darcy and Elizabeth to go hide in a barn and have a little fun sometimes…. Love you all, see you tomorrow.


	11. Chance

Disclaimer: I do not own Pride & Prejudice, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar.

* * *

_10 December, 1811_

As the sun rose further into the sky Darcy noted that it grew darker. It wasn't a sudden darkening. It was a slow thickening of clouds in front of the sun. If, Mr. Darcy were walking with anyone else, he may have paid more attention to the weather. As it was, Darcy was walking with Elizabeth Bennet, someone who not only thoroughly distracted him, but also made him willfully negligent. Darcy did not want to even suggest turning back. In fact, Darcy had been so absorbed he was not quite sure where they had wandered too.

"And so," Elizabeth spoke, "I was forbidden from climbing trees."

Darcy frowned, "You actually hung every single one of your mother's bonnets in a tree?"

"Oh yes," Elizabeth nodded. "I had very little choice."

"I can't believe that," Darcy chuckled.

"And what would you have done if your mother or father had forced you to dress as a sheep for a Christmas party?"

"I suppose you are right," Darcy admitted. "That is a little hard to bear."

"A little," Elizabeth asked indignantly. "I looked ridiculous!"

"No," Darcy denied, "I am sure you made a very pretty sheep."

Elizabeth scoffed, "And you call me a tease, you Sir, are the one teasing me now!"

"Well, Miss Elizabeth, perhaps we should make a pact," Darcy asked, a slight grin taking over his face.

Lizzy breathed deeply, "What kind of a pact, Sir?"

"We will never force _our_ children to dress up as animals," the tone he spoke with was so warm, warm but innocuous.

Elizabeth could do nothing but smile, she would certainly never dress her children up, and if Mr. Darcy could learn from her pain, she supposed that was a good thing. "Consider it made."

Darcy's left hand moved to lay over the hand on his arm. He stroked the back of Elizabeth's hand gently, god how he wished she would understand him. He had made a small step in the right direction. Elizabeth no longer misunderstood his intentions, she simply didn't understand. Fitzwilliam Darcy was nothing if not determined. If he wanted something, he worked for it. Elizabeth Bennet was no different, Darcy desired her beyond anything else he ever had in his life, and he would make her fall in love with him.

He watched her, Lizzy's face was serene, her body relaxed. The pulse in her neck had calmed. Darcy knew he needed to unsettle her, putting her off balance would make her wonder, make her understand.

"We talked about your cousin Edward," Darcy continued, "does that mean you are fond of all children?"

Elizabeth nodded, "Yes. I love children, especially babies, they are just so sweet and loving."

The relaxed smile and spread to her eyes, brightening them, Darcy thought. That was good. "Did you help care for your youngest sister?"

"I was too young to be trusted with Lydia, but when I was a little older, my father would take me to visit the families that reside on our land," Elizabeth explained, "I remember that was the first time I held a baby on my own."

Darcy chuckled, "I remember the first time I held Georgiana, she was so small, and if you can believe it I was very small then too. I cannot imagine how small she seemed to my father."

Lizzy smiled, "Is your sister the only baby you've held?"

"Yes," Darcy admitted.

Elizabeth smiled sweetly, "They always seem small, and some are so tiny it seems impossible."

"Do you often care for others' children," Darcy asked, his own smile coming to the front.

"Jane is better with the older children but she gets a little nervous with the young ones," Elizabeth informed Darcy. "I usually get to help with the little ones."

"Then you must want children of your own," Darcy prodded.

Elizabeth pulled away from Darcy, spinning on the ball of her foot and walking backwards in front of him. "Oh, but you must have heard that I am determined to 'die an old maid'?"

"I cannot believe that to be true," Darcy mourned the loss of her beside him, but this allowed him to watch her more closely.

Elizabeth grinned, locking her hands behind her back, a little pop in each step she took. "Mr. Darcy, any sensible woman would have accepted a proposal of marriage when, as I have been informed, another offer of marriage is unlikely to be made."

"Then why did you reject Mr. Collins," Darcy asked, taking a slightly larger step, bringing him just a slight bit closer to Elizabeth. She didn't seem to notice.

Elizabeth giggled the fresh air and the easy conversation going to her head. "I am hardly sensible, Mr. Darcy."

"Oh," Mr. Darcy took another larger step, "I think that depends on your understanding of sensibility. I think, that had you accepted you would be highly insensible, Miss Elizabeth."

Elizabeth blushed, her head tilting downward softly. "So, in your inscrutable mind, it is sensible to reject safety and future security?"

"Inscrutable," Darcy chuckled at the description. "Yes, I think in this case that inscrutable is an apt description, especially considering the subject."

"You," Elizabeth skipped backwards, her boots crunching on fresh snow, "are avoiding the question."

"I had no intention s of avoiding giving an answer, Miss Elizabeth."

"Then give one," Elizabeth prompted.

"I do not think rejecting future safety and security is sensible, however, those things must be balanced with happiness," Darcy intoned, catching her gaze and holding it.

The smile that had disappeared returned slowly, cracking the near frown that had taken hold of her face. "The same cloth," she whispered softly. "You are in the minority in this," Elizabeth grinned. "Charlotte often tells me that happiness is a matter of chance in marriage."

"And you believe as I do," Darcy pressed, "that happiness is something you make, something you seek?"

"Yes. I do not think we can live merely on chance," Elizabeth nibbled her lower lip. "We take chances, we sometimes regret those choices, but we make them. We choose to walk today, Mr. Darcy, but what if you had left later, would we be here at this moment? We make the best of what life gives us, we make the best choices we can, and make the best of the outcomes."

Darcy couldn't help but admire the fire in Elizabeth's eyes. This is what he loved about her, the passion that resided in her soul that pushed the bounds of her being and infected those around her. "Have you given it much thought," Darcy asked lightly.

Elizabeth blushed terribly, "When you have as many sisters as I, you take advantage of any time you can to think in peace."

"I suppose that is one advantage to being considered taciturn, I am very often left alone with my thoughts," Darcy grinned.

A cool mist brushed Elizabeth's cheeks. She tipped her head back, bonnet sliding off her head the tied ribbon keeping it from dropping into the snow. Peering up into the sky, Elizabeth traced the path of the clouds, they moved slowly to her eyes, but she knew they were actually moving quite quickly. They had darkened, from snow white to a muddy grey. The mist was cold and it left her curls damp, Elizabeth frowned, how had the weather gotten away from her. Usually she was quite aware of the conditions, years of experience teaching her that it was important to be observant.

Darcy had watched her and the concern that flashed in her eyes briefly. He knew well enough that this sort of mist could quickly turn into rain, and rain in this temperature quickly froze. "We should head back before the weather takes a turn for the worse, we should hurry."

Elizabeth nodded, running one gloved hand through her loosed hair. "Netherfield is only about half a mile away."

Darcy blinked in surprise, she was gesturing the way they had been walking, had he gotten turned around as they walked? He didn't know. Darcy shook the thought from his mind and began to walk once again, only to have Elizabeth start off in another direction.

He turned, wrapping his hand around her wrist, "Where are you going?"

"Home," Elizabeth smiled, tugging from his grip.

"No," Darcy took a step toward her. "I cannot allow you to walk alone, we should take shelter at Netherfield and wait until the weather clears before I escort you back to Longbourn," Darcy reasoned hopefully.

Elizabeth looked unconvinced. "It isn't so far, I will fine, Sir."

"This is a choice," Darcy tried once more, "If I allowed you to walk alone, I would regret it, Miss Elizabeth. I cannot take that chance."

Elizabeth bit her lip and agreed with a quick nod.

* * *

The mist had gotten heavier and colder, and Darcy had escorted Elizabeth into the safety of Netherfield's stable rather than risk walking another quarter mile in probable rain. The stable was empty but for several horses. Darcy hauled the heavy doors shut, muscles straining and his breath forming a cloud in the air.

When the doors closed with a thud, Darcy turned back to Elizabeth, she stood in the center of the barn, her face slick with moisture. Moving forward, Darcy went and made his way to light the lanterns spread through the space. When he finally stopped in front of Elizabeth Darcy had spread a blanket on the ground and held another in his arms. Not speaking, Darcy unfurled the blanket and wrapped it around Elizabeth's shoulders, he had stepped a little too close, but he couldn't help himself. She looked so sweet and so wild, he wanted to kiss her and feel the heat of her light form pressed against him.

"How are you," Darcy asked, his voice slow and broken with deep breaths.

Elizabeth smiled as best she could with Mr. Darcy standing so near, and his hands curled around her shoulders. "Fine."

He stepped back, pulling Elizabeth with him. Darcy was barely keeping control of himself, it would be so easy to pull her into his arms, warm her better than any blanket could. "Sit," he nodded to the blanket he had led her too.

In a jumble, his hands still attached to Elizabeth, Darcy managed to seat himself in front of Elizabeth, her skirts crumpled and twisted. Slowly, his hands slid from her shoulders, down her arms and to her hands. She didn't pull away, although she did glance away from him.

"Are you hungry," Darcy asked, "it's well past noon."

Elizabeth nodded, "Are you suggesting we pilfer some oats?"

"No," Darcy laughed as he released her hands to dig into his overcoat pocket. Extracting a large red apple and a small covered blade, Darcy set about slicing the apple, having already shed his gloves.

As a slice was cut, he extended it to Elizabeth, watching for a few seconds as it was raised to her lips and how they formed around the fruit before Darcy would have to force himself to look away lest he cut himself.

Somewhere around the third slice, Darcy looked up only to find a figure behind Elizabeth. Darcy bit his cheek as Elizabeth fed the apple slice the tall black stallion that had dropped his muzzle over her shoulder and nosed her lap for more apple. Elizabeth reached one hand up to scratch at the stallion's ear, smiling at the brazen creature.

Darcy tried to frown, "Cricket, _that_ is not how a gentleman behaves."

"Cricket? Is he yours," Elizabeth wondered, watching the man before her in the dim light.

"Yes, named by my sister," Darcy said.

In truth, Darcy was only jealous, jealous of his own horse. Cricket was enjoying her attentions without censure, he was being fed, and stroked, and embraced by _his_ Elizabeth. God how he wished he could rest his head against her neck, to kiss her wrists, and her neck, and God he would give anything to kiss those soft pink lips.

His breathing quickened, Darcy set aside the knife and the rest of the apple and reached out to cup Elizabeth's hands in his. She didn't move, her own bare fingers twining with his on instinct.

"Elizabeth," he breathed.

"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth asked.

"Fitzwilliam," Darcy corrected. "Please."

Silence fell, their hands still linked before Darcy found his tongue once more, "This is one of the chances, the choices you spoke of."

* * *

"_Chance favors the prepared mind."_

_-Louis Pasteur_

* * *

A/N: 11/25. This is a little late I know. I am finally home, it took me forever to pack and drive home. Someone asked if the quotes are the prompt for the chapter, they aren't. I usually find a word or a theme as I go, something will crop up and I'll take it from there. I do enjoy quotes, they are really fascinating. Anyway, thanks for the reviews, and I'll see you tomorrow!


	12. Silence

Disclaimer: I do not own Pride & Prejudice, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar.

* * *

_10 December, 1811_

Elizabeth swallowed roughly, "Mr. Darcy." She was having trouble thinking. Mr. Darcy's skin against hers was causing fire to ripple under her skin. Lizzy knew she needed to move, to stand and move away. This moment could lead nowhere. It would not lead anywhere. Elizabeth may have agreed to end the hostility between them, but the way Mr. Darcy spoke to her, the way he was looking at her… It was unsupportable, and it was even more unsupportable that she was still sitting in front of him, their hands entwined.

"Elizabeth," the depth in his voice terrified Elizabeth. She scrambled backwards her hands pulled from Mr. Darcy's grasp. It shouldn't be possible for any man to say her name with so much feeling. It shouldn't be at all possible. Shaking, Lizzy pulled herself to her feet, turning her back to the seated man. She took a few steps away, walking towards another of the horses still in its stall. Her neck tensed almost painfully as she struggled to hold back her confused tears and shaky rasping breath.

"Elizabeth," Darcy repeated, rising from the ground. He wanted so much to hold her, to stop the tremors that were shaking her small form. He watched her reach out and stroke another of the horses, her bare fingers trailing across the velvety muzzle.

Elizabeth couldn't respond, if she opened her mouth to speak she was sure she would break down into a panic. Instead, Elizabeth allowed the silence to continue, the longer she had to listen to only her breathing, and the shifting of the horses, the more she could focus on anything besides Mr. Darcy, the more she gained control of herself, of her mind.

Darcy could only watch as Elizabeth stood still, his heart sinking with every moment of silence. He had taken a chance and now he had nothing left but to regret that choice. Elizabeth may have been growing to like him, but Darcy could be impatient at times, and that impatience may have doomed him. He should apologize for his actions, but he couldn't bring himself to do that. Not when it would only be an apology for rushing things, not for the intent.

* * *

The silence of a few moments had stretched into what Darcy guessed was nearly half an hour. He hadn't had the presence of mind to check his pocket watch. Darcy had resigned himself to leaning against the wall of the stable, watching Elizabeth. The tremors that wracked her body had ceased, but she still had not turned back to him.

"Your sister named your horse Cricket," when she spoke, Mr. Darcy moved to stand at attention.

"Yes," Darcy forced himself to speak without the eagerness he felt. "Cricket is a shy horse."

Elizabeth glanced over the shoulder at Mr. Darcy, her face incredulous. "I cannot believe that."

"It is true," Darcy took a step forward.

"Your horse was stealing my apple slices," Elizabeth scoffed, rotating a little so she was nearly facing him.

Darcy chuckled, "Cricket is particular, if he likes you he has no sense of boundaries. If he doesn't, he will trip over his own feet to get away." Cricket, as Georgie had pointed out, was very similar to Darcy himself. Both lived in extremes, either warm or cold.

"I didn't think stallions could be shy," Elizabeth turned to watch Cricket, who had long since absconded with the abandoned apple.

Darcy shook his head, "Cricket may be shy, but when he is working, he is transformed. He is brave and formidable in his own right."

"I will take your word on that, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth offered. "Does your sister name all of your pets and horses?"

Darcy took another step closer, "She does. I can deny her nothing. She is spoiled in that sense."

"She seems very lively," Elizabeth grinned.

Darcy's smile faltered, "She was."

"I," Elizabeth was unsure of what to say, not wanting to pry. "I'm sorry."

"I have no idea what Wickham told you, what particulars he informed you of," Darcy breathed heavily. "What I am sure he left out was his greatest offense."

Elizabeth wasn't sure what to say, Mr. Darcy was so consumed with anger, but it was not the explosive verbal anger she had felt from him before. This was a slow, boiling, internal anger.

"I am sure you know that Wickham grew up with me, and Georgiana. The last time our paths crossed, I found _that_ man had persuaded my sister, my little sister, to elope with him," Darcy scowled his voice harsh. "After everything my father and I had done for him, he repaid us by trying to destroy Georgie's reputation and extort more money from our family."

Elizabeth had thought she knew the extent of Wickham's lies. Lizzy had thought she had been appropriately remorseful. This revelation left Lizzy dangling uncomfortably. Would she have been able to talk so civilly with him had she been in his place, had Georgiana been her sister. Her hand flew to her mouth an attempt at stifling the almost immediate cry of distress. Tears she had thought banished rushed forward, streaming down her cheeks.

Darcy regretted his words as he watched Elizabeth begin to cry. He hadn't meant to sadden her. Wickham was a chord that always struck him wrong. He should have held his tongue, but he hadn't. Darcy took another few steps forward, wanting to comfort Elizabeth.

The tall man only made it a few steps before Elizabeth met him toe to toe. Her arms reaching up and wrapping around Darcy's neck, her face buried in his chest. Darcy stumbled back at the force of the embrace. His arms instantly curled around Elizabeth's back, one hand sliding up her spine and cradling her neck, his fingers wrapping themselves in her hair.

"I'm sorry," Elizabeth sobbed against Darcy's chest. The words were muffled, and Darcy could only pull her closer. Propriety be damned.

Elizabeth felt so warm it was if she had never actually properly been warm before in her life. Darcy could only bury his face in Elizabeth's hair, she smelled of vanilla and honey. And, God, how she felt pressed against him. He could feel every sob as if they were his own. The way her chest moved against Darcy and the way her slight weight was being supported only by him. How small she felt against him and the curves that her clothing belied. She was perfect, Elizabeth was everything he desired.

Elizabeth's sobs softened slowly and she released her hands from around his neck only to find Mr. Darcy was not willing to release her. She lifted her head from his chest, tilted her head back to look at the man, "I am so sorry."

Darcy shook his head, his fury at George Wickham fading in that moment—if only slightly—because Elizabeth Bennet had embraced him. Elizabeth had curled herself in _his_ arms. This was heaven, Darcy was sure. The pure joy that spread through him erased years of anger and sadness and loneliness.

When they did part, they did so reluctantly. Neither spoke of what had passed between them, but both dwelled on it as they donned their gloves and hats, and Darcy checked the weather. The mist had turned to a light snow, and the sky had lightened slightly. They walked arm in arm through the fresh snow. It was light and soft and melted as it hit the warmth of their bodies.

Just before they reached the main path of Longbourn, Darcy turned to Elizabeth and pulled her into his arms, hugging her, grazing her cheek with his lips. "You amaze me every single day, Elizabeth. You leave me speechless."

He released her, turned and began the long walk back to Netherfield, leaving Elizabeth standing alone in the snow, stilled by his soft utterance.

Some days it felt like Darcy took one step forward and three back, but today, Darcy felt like he had taken three steps back and league forward.

* * *

_11 December, 1811_

Darcy woke from a deep sleep to two letters, letters that arrived in the night via a dog-sled and sat waiting for their recipient with a patience that their writers did not have.

_03 December, 1811_

_Dear Brother,_

_ It has been forever since your last letter! Richard is going spare staying inside all day. Yesterday we resorted to playing hide and seek like children. Richard might have broken your favorite chair in trying to escape, he is determined to glue and tack it back together, but I know you. You would never be so easily fooled, Brother._

_ The last time you wrote was just before the ball that Mr. Bingley was throwing. Tell me everything! Did you dance, or did you hide in the corner like usual. How are Arcturus and Cricket? I miss you so much. Richard says he hasn't seen a storm this bad in years. He was telling me a story about when Richard rode out on snow covered roads and he was thrown. He says he broke both his arms, Brother, you must tell me the truth! Did Richard really break both is arms or is he pulling my leg?_

_ Richard says that nothing would be able to keep you from me, except if you had found me a new sister. Brother, have you found me a new sister? Oh, I hope you have? Did you dance with her at the ball? Does she love you? I cannot wait to meet her. Oh you had better let me meet her before the wedding! Actually, Brother, I have decided I will be very cross if I cannot attend the wedding._

_ Richard says you probably won't return in time for Christmas, I'll forgive you though if you get me a new sister as a gift. Be safe, Brother._

_I love and miss you. Yours,_

_Georgie._

Darcy smiled, Georgiana sounded more like herself. She had slowly been coming out of her shell. Setting his sister's letter aside he opened Fitz's.

_03 December, 1811_

_Darcy,_

_ Georgiana and I are safe and surviving here in London. Yesterday we played hide and seek and Georgiana broke your favorite chair, don't be upset with her, it was on me. I should have picked a different game. On the other hand, Georgiana is quite happy, she misses you terribly, but she is enjoying the snow._

_ So who is the lady, the same one who argues with you? You told me the lady in question was very opinionated, but I always say a little fighting makes for more a more passionate marriage. _

_Georgiana is quite set on having a sister and even you must admit she has been without a real feminine influence for too long. She lacks some of the confidence that other women have and she spends more time with you and I than is probably healthy. Darcy, what I am saying is maybe you should find a nice girl and settle down. _

_I should go, Georgiana is writing you a letter too, and I need to post them soon. Hopefully they will reach you quickly. Don't bother trying to reach London for Christmas, Georgie would broken-hearted if something were to happen. _

_Take Care,_

_Richard Fitzwilliam_

Darcy shook his head, it seemed that the whole world was scheming to get him married, not that Darcy particularly minded in this case. And Darcy had never been able to deny Georgiana something she wanted, let alone something that she needed. The more Darcy thought about it, the more Elizabeth became the one thing in his life that wasn't optional. He had to have her.

Elizabeth Bennet was caring, she was loving, warm, generous, smart, witty, confident, and she would make a wonderful mother. To Darcy it didn't matter what her relations did or did not do, how much money she had or didn't have. All that mattered was that she was there, that she would be by his side for the rest of his days.

Any lingering reservations that Darcy may have had were gone. He would make Elizabeth love him, he would marry her, and he would ensure that she was always happy. Elizabeth would want for nothing and be so loved.

* * *

"_After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music."_

_-Aldous Huxley_

* * *

A/N: 12/25, almost halfway done with this story. I know that many of you are ready to strangle me after how I left you hanging, and how I picked it up. But I'll be honest, Darcy got away from me and I had to deny him what he wanted for the good of the story. Also, I forgot to mention that _I_ was that sheep—except I managed to cry my way out of that horrifying costume. Love you all, and thanks for the reviews!


	13. Bribe

Disclaimer: I do not own Pride & Prejudice, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar.

* * *

_11 December, 1811_

Elizabeth had slept poorly. Half her night had been spent tossing and turning and the other half had been spent having delirious dreams. It was entirely Mr. Darcy's fault. Fitzwilliam Darcy had gotten into her head. Lizzy had been determined to place him out of her mind. Her dreams had not gotten that message.

She had dreamed of him. Dreams where his fingers were locked in her hair, his fingers leaving hot trails down her neck and back. Lizzy had woken breathless, her skin too warm and her mind drifting. Elizabeth had dreamed of men before, but they had never been real. She had dreamed of Shakespeare's Hamlet, his brooding loneliness. This had been different. She had never dreamed such brazen things.

Lizzy had been so happy in those dreams. It had been summer, and she had been dressed in a light chemise and nothing else. And the warm breeze had been exhilarating. Elizabeth couldn't remember the last time she had been able to run free in so little. The long, vivid green, grass had been threaded through her toes. And the strong arms around her hips, strong, tanned arms that held her firmly. The warm lips on her neck, her shoulder, her cheek, the fire that had existed in Elizabeth's waking hours intensified and she was left almost boneless. What really effected Elizabeth was that those lips and those arms belonged to Mr. Darcy, Fitzwilliam, and the prayer that he whispered against her skin was her name. Lizzy could only pray for and dread the moment her name passed Mr. Darcy's lips again.

The dreams had left Elizabeth on edge, every creak and cough had her jumping, expecting Mr. Darcy to pop out of nowhere. He had been doing that almost every day since the Netherfield ball. He had appeared before and asked her to dance, then he began showing up at her hiding places. Lizzy was unprepared for the invasion of her life, and even more unprepared at how used to it she was.

* * *

Instead of remaining indoors, Elizabeth set out to visit Charlotte. She hadn't talked to Charlotte since the Netherfield ball, and she had taken Mr. Collins off her hands. Lizzy was a little anxious to see her dearest friend. Mr. Collins was a trying man, and Charlotte was sweet to a fault.

Walking alone, down the snow covered lane, Elizabeth tromped towards the Lucas family home. Plato was trailing behind, having been seriously irritated with his mistress. He wasn't inclined to be left behind, not when there was a present and imminent danger. Plato had never failed to protect his mistress, and the day before had been too close. His mistress had come home smelling entirely of that man. Her vanilla and honey scent was almost buried beneath cinnamon and leather. Plato had little choice but to lick his mistress's hands clean, and then her face. It wasn't acceptable for his mistress to smell like another. Plato took a great deal of pride in his job, and he was not going to allow his mistress to wander away again.

"Eliza," a light, smooth voice called.

Elizabeth squinted slightly against the sun, there was Charlotte walking towards her, gloved hand waving in the air.

"Charlotte," Elizabeth smiled and laughed, joyous at seeing her friend at long last.

When they reached each other they embraced as the sisters they should have been. "How have you been, Eliza? I was just on my way to visit you."

Lizzy smiled, "I am good, Charlotte. And you, how are you?"

"Good," Charlotte replied after a breath.

Lizzy wasn't used to the silence, and so she asked the dreaded question, "How is Mr. Collins?"

"Good," Charlotte tried to smile, but her lips couldn't quite pull the proper way. "I actually came to talk to you about him."

Elizabeth's heart sunk, something wasn't quite right. "What is it?"

"I am engaged," Charlotte released a sigh of nerves.

"Mr. Collins," Elizabeth barely kept her voice normal, but the shock bled through.

"Mr. Collins," Charlotte cut Lizzy off, "Proposed yesterday and I have accepted."

"You can't be serious, Charlotte," Elizabeth's voice ended in a sharp yelp. "He is, he is an odious man!"

Charlotte dropped the arm that she had curled around Elizabeth's. "I understand your surprise, but Elizabeth, you must see it is sensible. I am a burden."

"Charlotte," Elizabeth sighed, "This is hardly sensible. You know so little about Mr. Collins. How can you be so blind?"

"Eliza," Charlotte pleaded, "I have little other choice. I may never marry if I do _not_ marry Mr. Collins."

Elizabeth bit back tears, "I hope for your sake you can be happy with this decision."

"Happiness is entirely a matter of chance, Eliza," Charlotte shook her head, Lizzy could be very stubborn.

Lizzy frowned, this was all too familiar, she had had this conversation with Mr. Darcy. "We make our own happiness, the choices we make help us to be happy," Lizzy tried to explain.

"And to me," Charlotte reached out to hold Elizabeth's hand, "safety and security are happiness."

Elizabeth choked back a scream of frustration and set aside her feelings. She was certain that Charlotte would regret this choice, but Lizzy would be there to support her, that is what friends did. Elizabeth nodded slightly and pulled Charlotte into a big hug, friendship was too important.

"Lizzy," Charlotte asked as she pulled away, "will you, will you visit me in Hunsford? My father and Maria are coming to visit over Easter, you could come with them. Please, Eliza?"

Elizabeth bit at her lower lip, "Ask me again when it is closer to Easter, with everything going on I haven't a clue what is going to be happening."

"Oh yes," Charlotte smiled, "Mr. Collins did mention that Mr. Bingley had visited quite recently, with another certain gentleman?"

Elizabeth couldn't help the brilliant grin that crossed her face, "Oh I have wonderful news!"

"Mr. Bingley has proposed to Jane," Charlotte exclaimed.

Lizzy shook her head, "No! Not yet."

"Yet," Charlotte frowned, "Eliza, you never speculate to others like that, tell me what is going on."

"I have it on very good authority," Elizabeth held back the smile, "that Mr. Bingley is going to propose soon."

"Whose authority," Charlotte pressed, "you must tell me!"

"Mr. Darcy's," Elizabeth admitted after a moment.

Charlotte gasped, "Mr. Darcy? Eliza, the last we spoke you were furious with the man, how is it that now you are in his confidence."

Elizabeth worried her lip even further, "I can hardly explain it. I was very wrong about Mr. Darcy's character. He is a very kind man, and it is Mr. Wickham who was the villain."

"Oh Eliza," Charlotte frowned. "But how does that lead you to understanding Mr. Bingley's intentions."

"Mr. Darcy asked if I believed Jane to be in love, because he was sure that Mr. Bingley was," Elizabeth fibbed slightly, Charlotte may be dear to her, but she didn't need to know the entire sorry tale.

"I see," the older girl smiled, "have you told Jane?"

"No," Lizzy grinned. "I think it will make a very nice holiday surprise, don't you?"

"Indeed."

* * *

_12 December, 1811_

Darcy had wandered for two hours the day before searching for Miss Elizabeth. And after two hours Darcy had lost hope and retreated to Netherfield. He knew that he wasn't entitled to Elizabeth's time, but Darcy was sufficiently annoyed. But he knew he needed to be patient. He had very nearly crossed the point of no return in the stable. Darcy would give her space, time, but he would not relent in his pursuit.

Today, however, Darcy had set out with a plan, he was ready. Darcy was through being teased by the animals around him. Plato and now his own horse! It was unendurable. Darcy would not be bested by a pair of animals. He would win over Elizabeth and enjoy her attentions, hopefully leaving Plato and Cricket quite unattended.

Today, if all went well, Darcy would bribe Plato into being a little less hostile, or at least try.

* * *

As Darcy walked through the snow towards Oakham Mount he was rewarded with a low, throaty, bark. Plato, Darcy thought triumphantly. Quickly, he tracked the movement in the snow, and searched for the dog's mistress. She was nowhere in sight, all the better for Darcy's plan.

Darcy reached the dog and dug in his pocket for the jerky he had stored there earlier. Tearing a piece off, Darcy offered it to Plato. Plato, glanced at the man, trotted forward, sniffed the extended offering. Darcy grinned in triumph as Plato sniffed in interest only to be left hanging as the dog turned away and began to roll in the snow.

Sighing, Darcy whistled sharply, catching the dog's attention before flinging the piece of dried meat into the snow. Once again, Plato meandered over, sniffed the food before turning up his nose and turning his back on it. Darcy's jaw twinged, the muscles twitching in annoyance. He would not give up.

* * *

Elizabeth strolled slowly towards Oakham Mount. Plato had wandered ahead, leaving Lizzy to twirl slowly in the snow. She had picked up a long stick earlier and snapped off the stray twigs that extended from it and had spent the better part of an hour drawing designs into the snow as she walked. Lizzy was sure that someone would enjoy the giant spiral she had managed to curl around a tree, and the set of orchids she had sketched beside a snow covered boulder.

When Lizzy had finally abandoned her art, she skipped through the snow, attempting to catch up to Plato, she found one of the most curious scenes she had ever seen in her life. Mr. Darcy was trying to feed Plato strips of jerky, except Plato was turning his nose up at ever piece. That in itself was amusing because Plato never rejected food, not even vegetables. To see the usually docile dog directly and purposefully ignoring the attentions of someone was amazing to be short.

The ground was littered with dozens of pieces of dried meet that had been abandoned. Elizabeth scooped up the nearest piece and clicked her tongue softly, "Plato."

The dog's big head snapped up and he lumbered over to her, reaching down, Elizabeth offered Plato the jerky. He quickly snapped it up, chewing and tossing his head in joy. "There you are," she scratched his ear dryly before walking over to a frowning Mr. Darcy.

"Good morning," Lizzy smiled, determined to act as though they had never embraced.

"Good morning, Miss Elizabeth," Darcy returned, watching Plato curl up in the snow and chew on the meet that Elizabeth had given him.

"How long have you been at this," Elizabeth gestured to the jerky scattered around.

Darcy shrugged, watching the smirk playing at Elizabeth's lips. "Not so long."

"I see," Elizabeth remarked. "And have you had any success?"

"None."

"Have you been attempting to bribe my dog," Elizabeth asked with a smirk.

Darcy sniffed, his chin lifting slightly, "Absolutely not."

"Of course," Elizabeth agreed easily, smiling at the obvious lie.

"Even if I were, your dog is rather resistant," Darcy scowled, though he hardly meant it.

Elizabeth giggled, turning to look up at Mr. Darcy. "You know, I am starting to believe you when you say that Plato glares at you."

"As you should," Darcy smiled down at the woman beside him.

"Only," Lizzy clasped her hands before her, "I haven't a clue why he does it."

"Have you been speaking kindly about me to Plato," Darcy asked.

Lizzy cocked her head to the side, "As much as I can without arousing suspicion that you've bribed _me_."

"Hmm," Darcy hummed. "Then the answer is obvious."

"Oh," Lizzy rocked on her heels, "do tell me, please?"

"Plato must not like me because he sees me as a threat," Darcy smirked at the radiant young woman.

"Well," Elizabeth peered at the man, "you are rather tall, I suppose, but so is Plato, so I hardly think he believes you a threat."

"Trust me in this, Miss Elizabeth," Darcy whispered conspiratorially, "Plato thinks me a very great threat to the one thing he believes his beyond reason of a doubt."

"You are teasing me again, with riddles this time," Lizzy huffed. "Perhaps I should bribe you to not tease me."

Darcy's eyes flashed wickedly, "I would be very interested in what you would bribe me with, for such a response."

* * *

"_Love has its own time, its own season, and its own reasons from coming and going. You cannot bribe it or coerce it or reason it into staying. You can only embrace it when it arrives and give it away when it comes to you."_

_-Kent Nerburn_

* * *

A/N: 13/25. Plato and Darcy's show down is coming. Poor Plato, he is at such a disadvantage not being able to talk—except with his super adorable puppy-eyes which just scream: 'Mommy, the mean man was picking on me!' Anyhow, Love you all, see you tomorrow, drop a comment please!


	14. Love

Disclaimer: I do not own Pride & Prejudice, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar.

* * *

_14 December, 1811_

_14 December, 1811_

_Dearest Georgiana,_

_ I just received your letter. I am glad to hear you are well and that Fitz hasn't endangered you too much. He did try to blame the chair on you, Dearest, but as I read your letter first, I'm more inclined, at the moment, to believe you, but let us leave him in suspense for a little while longer. Richard did break both of his arms, although not at the same time. Fitz just doesn't learn from his mistakes, once the doctor had wrapped his arm he was back straight away on the horse and breaking the second arm._

_ Cricket and Arcturus are healthy, Cricket has made a new friend, and he enjoys teasing me greatly through this friendship. The ball was lavish, Charles was excitable, and no, I did not hide in the corner the entire night, only part of it. I did dance, and it was pleasant enough. I have not acquired you a new sister, no matter how much you or Richard think otherwise. I may be very persuasive, but I suspect inducing a woman into marriage takes a little more time and effort than Richard believes. What do you think, Georgie, what would be the best way to convince a reluctant woman to marry me? That should keep you busy and out of trouble for a few days at least._

_ By the by, I met a curious dog named Plato recently, who I think would get along very well with you. Plato does not, however, like me. I even attempted bribery to no success except his owner's smirking laughter._

_ With the snow as bad as it has been I probably won't be able to make it to London for Christmas, but as soon as it is safe, I will of course be there. If you would like, Georgie, we may celebrate Christmas again when we are together. _

_Love,_

_Fitzwilliam _

Darcy had carefully constructed his letter, keeping it playful but refusing to answer any of the more personal questions. He had yet to mention Elizabeth by name to Georgie for fear Georgiana would burst from excitement. Darcy had mentioned a lady who was argumentative and was quite kind, but that was the extent. Georgiana, Darcy had no doubt, would get along famously with Elizabeth. That in itself gave Darcy a few reservations. Georgiana and Elizabeth were all too capable of getting the best of him separately, together Darcy would be outnumbered and without mercy.

Setting aside that letter, Darcy set to work on a second.

_14 December, 1811_

_Fitz,_

_ I am glad to hear that you and Georgie are safe, the weather here is temperamental. One day the snow will begin to melt just a little and the next it will be raining and snowing anew. I've already informed Georgiana that I likely will not be able to reach London for Christmas. It is only now that the post is being carried by sled and that takes several days because of the temperature. As to the chair, well, if it were anyone else but Georgiana… But it was Georgie who broke it so I cannot be too upset with her._

_ I would ask you not to encourage Georgiana in hoping for a sister, because my attempts thus far have been misunderstood and not as successful as I would have liked. The lady in question is the one with whom I argue, her name is Elizabeth. She is a gentleman's daughter, and quite accomplished. She is very bright and witty, and kind and she would make a wonderful mother, Richard. I have told her of my, and Georgiana's, dealings with Wickham, and she has taken it as best she can, she cried for Georgiana's sake, for mine. _

_ The only problem is that she doesn't love me. Not yet, at least. She hated me until very recently, and I have loved her very nearly our entire acquaintance, I was only in denial that I did not love her. I have set about to persuade her into marriage, but it is easier to plan than to enact. Her dog, Plato, is entirely against it—he glares at me as if I am going to pick Elizabeth up and run off with her. Of course, he may have some basis for those thoughts. I would very much like to hold her in my arms constantly. Cricket, too, has begun to tease me. Only the other day he rested his muzzle in her lap, I had never before wished to be horse, but in that moment I did._

_ I must be off, I have work to do if am to convince Elizabeth to marry me before Christmas._

_Your Cousin,_

_F. Darcy_

* * *

"Lizzy," Lydia's scream echoed through the halls of Longbourn, reaching everyone without fail, including their intended recipient.

Elizabeth Bennet stepped out of her room and peered down the hallway at her youngest and silliest sister, "Yes, Lydia?"

"Mama says you must take Kitty and I into Meryton to buy presents for each other while the weather is nice," Lydia grinned madly.

"What about Jane and Mary," Lizzy asked, hoping that at least one of her more sensible sisters would come along.

Lydia stalked forward, grabbed Lizzy's hand and pulled, "They are staying home and sending their lists with you and Kitty. La! I shall have such fun shopping for you all, I don't suppose I could convince anyone to marry you on such short notice, what do you want for Christmas, Lizzy?"

One less sister, Lizzy thought darkly. "Your love," Lizzy smiled sweetly, affecting a very Jane-ly nature, "is all I need."

"Ugh," Lydia huffed, rolling her eyes. "You are _so_ boring Lizzy! Don't you want a handsome man to pick you up and kiss you!"

Gratifying Lydia with an answer would only bring madness, so instead, Elizabeth set to dressing warmly for the weather. Plato watched her carefully from the bed, knowing that his mistress only wore so many layers when she was going to spend hours out of doors.

"Do you want to come to Meryton with Lydia, Kitty, and I," Lizzy asked Plato.

Plato dropped his nose to the bed and one giant paw reached up and dropped across the dog's eyes and muzzle. That would be a categorical no. Lizzy couldn't help but smile. Plato may love just about every person and animal, but given the choice, Plato would not tag along to listen to Lydia's shrieks and squeals. And Elizabeth would be right beside the dog if she could.

"Fine," Lizzy playfully scowled, "abandon me! See if I don't get kidnapped just to spite you for this." Elizabeth planted a kiss on Plato's head before heading out the door.

* * *

Elizabeth walked slightly behind her two sisters, perusing the notes that Jane and Mary had given her, their gift-lists. They weren't too complex, a new book for Mary, a collection of ribbon for Lydia, and a new bonnet for Kitty, from Jane. Mary's list detailed a book on embroidery for Kitty, a book on etiquette for Lydia, and a book on gardening for Jane. Kitty had been charged with collecting Mary and Jane's gifts for Elizabeth, clearly being the more responsible choice of the two youngest girls.

Lydia and Kitty were, at the moment, giggling excitedly, they had been just as trapped as Lizzy, although they had born it better. They were not the subject of their mother's ire, and they had a gift for ignoring anything and everything they didn't care about. Lydia and Kitty had mostly spent their confinement in Longbourn giggling and chatting and arguing over who looked better in which dress. Jane had spent much of that time breaking up small arguments and preventing dresses from being torn at the seams.

"Mr. Darcy," Lydia giggled loudly, turning to Kitty and whispering something not so kind about the gentleman that had appeared before them.

Darcy was startled out of his thoughts of Elizabeth by his own name, followed by a severe round of giggling. There she was, Elizabeth, and then there were her sisters. "Miss Kitty, Miss Lydia, Miss Elizabeth," Darcy greeted with a quick bow.

"Mr. Darcy," Lizzy greeted slowly, unsure slightly.

Kitty glanced at Elizabeth before turning back to Mr. Darcy, "We are going to Meryton to shop for presents, where are you going, Sir?"

"Well I was going to walk to Oakham Mount and spend a little time outside before walking into Meryton to arrange to send a couple of letters," Darcy explained, his eyes lingering on Elizabeth.

Elizabeth pocketed the lists and smiled kindly, "We won't keep you, Mr. Darcy, please enjoy your walk."

Lizzy nudged Kitty and Lydia into walking only to be stopped by Mr. Darcy's voice. "Would you allow me to escort you into the village."

"There Lizzy," Lydia smirked. "You can be boring with Mr. Darcy and Kitty and I can have fun!" Lydia started forward, pulling Kitty along with her, heading for the bridge that was only a short ways off.

Mr. Darcy chuckled as the girls dodged past him, reminding him just a little of his own sister.

"Miss Elizabeth," Darcy offered his arm, and was gratified that she took it so quickly.

Lizzy blushed both from Mr. Darcy holding her arm so close to his body and from Lydia's words. "You do not really need to accompany us into Meryton, Mr. Darcy."

"It is my pleasure," Darcy responded easily as he led Elizabeth towards the bridge, Kitty and Lydia already a good ways ahead but still within sight. "Where is Plato today?"

Elizabeth inhaled deeply, "Plato is napping today, I am sure. He managed to escape this foray."

"From all I know of you, Miss Elizabeth, I had thought you enjoyed walking," Darcy teased, knowing full well that it wasn't the walk that made her hesitant.

Lizzy shook her head, leaning a little closer to Mr. Darcy as they crossed the bridge, the snow mostly cleared but still very slick. "I envy you, Mr. Darcy, for you have only one sister, and I four."

Darcy chuckled mirthfully, "My sister, I know, would envy you, for having four sisters her only me."

Lizzy smiled up at Mr. Darcy, "I think if she were to live for a week with four sisters, she might be very thankful to only have you." Elizabeth's lungs refused to work properly as she gazed at the tall man, how she wanted to be wrapped in his arms again, but that was not to be. It just wasn't imaginable as real possibility. In her fantasies…oh being in Mr. Darcy's arms was always imaginable.

"Be that as it may," Darcy brought is free hand up to trace a curl that had escaped Elizabeth's bonnet, "Georgiana is quite insistent that I find her a sister."

"Oh-ho," Lizzy snickered, "Then it is not just match-making mothers and society ladies that you must dodge, Mr. Darcy, your own sister is determined to marry you off!"

Darcy nodded, "And my cousin, Fitz, he too is determined I marry, and soon."

"Oh, poor Mr. Darcy," Lizzy cooed, bringing her left hand up to gently pat and stroke Mr. Darcy's upper arm, and there her hand stayed, despite rules of propriety.

"Poor indeed," Darcy moaned, his entire body tense under her touch, "what should I do?"

Lizzy smiled at the pouting man, "You have very little choice, Mr. Darcy. I think you must choose a wife."

"Must I," Darcy asked. "And who would you suggest?"

"Hmm," Lizzy puzzled, "I suppose Miss Bingley is out of the question, and your cousins, that does limit your options."

"Remember that you have agreed to put me out of my misery if I end up engaged to someone awful," Darcy encouraged her.

"Oh yes," Elizabeth smirked. "Then you should marry wisely, a lady of accomplishment, wealthy, and beautiful, that way I might be spared committing any crimes."

Darcy frowned, "I am lucky, I am well established and may where I please, my wife need not be wealthy, or so accomplished as to be terrible to behold."

Elizabeth looked up startled, "Oh, I see. Then you must have given who you would like to marry some thought?"

"Yes," Darcy agreed.

"Then you are teasing me, if you have given it so much thought, I shouldn't have to put you out of your misery," Elizabeth's eyes narrowed.

"And what if she rejects me," Darcy asked, "what if I am rejected and then entrapped by another?"

"You are so sure she will reject you," Elizabeth frowned. "The great Mr. Darcy rejected by a society lady, oh the scandal."

Darcy was so close, so close to just admitting it all, begging Elizabeth to marry him. It took Darcy a great deal of effort to keep his tongue in check. "That is why I must persuade her to fall in love with me, if she loves me, she cannot refuse me."

Lizzy smiled gently, "And does she know your intentions?"

"No," Darcy frowned, "I am almost certain that she is oblivious to how much I love and admire her, how much I desire her to be my wife."

Elizabeth's smile faltered, her heart clenched at the tenderness in Mr. Darcy's words. He was in love.

* * *

"_One of the hardest things in life is watching the person you love, love someone else__."_

* * *

A/N: 14/25. This is getting nerve-racking. Poor Lizzy and poor Darcy, love never runs smooth. Posting this a little earlier today so my fellow Chicagoans can get to bed a little earlier, yes I realize it is Friday and you probably don't have to get up and go to work in the morning, but still… Lots of love, and keep all those lovely reviews coming!


	15. Hope

Disclaimer: I do not own Pride & Prejudice, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar.

* * *

_14 December, 1811_

The easy conversation had fallen into silence. Darcy pensive and Elizabeth saddened. They remained arm in arm, Elizabeth savoring his presence and Darcy slightly too oblivious to Elizabeth's heart breaking. Except, Lizzy had to stop at that thought, for her heart to break, she had to be sad that Mr. Darcy loved another. And for that to be true, it meant that Lizzy must love Mr. Darcy. But that was foolish, insensible.

Lizzy had long since learned that hope brought the greatest chance of disappointment. It was better not to hope and not have to suffer disappointment. But, Elizabeth thought sadly, her heart had gone and betrayed her. She had begun to hope. And now she had to live with disappointed hopes, and a small traitorous part of Lizzy wished that this woman would reject Mr. Darcy, but it wouldn't matter.

As they continued to walk, Elizabeth forced the smile back onto her face. She would not show her disappointment, the completely irrational disappointment. Oh, but her traitorous mind wandered back to the stable, and the embrace, and how gently he held her, how firm he was against her body.

Elizabeth was so absorbed in her thoughts that she completely forgot to pay attention to the path before her. Elizabeth's foot twisted on the icy path and sent her twisting into Mr. Darcy's chest, his arms instinctively wrapping around her and keeping her upright and against him. Elizabeth panted with surprise at her new position, not quite regaining her senses enough to find her footing and step away. Instead, Elizabeth remained locked in Mr. Darcy's arms, their breath mingling.

"Elizabeth," Darcy asked softly, pulling her tighter against him, one arm releasing her to let his fingers trace her temple, soothing her shock away. "Are you hurt?"

"No, thank you," Elizabeth breathed slowly. "I am fine, thanks to you."

"Are you sure," Darcy pressed, "You look a little pale."

Elizabeth shook Darcy's hand away from her face, "Fine. Just a little surprised, I think."

Darcy lifted Elizabeth up further, her feet actually leaving the ground slightly and Elizabeth's hands fisting around Mr. Darcy's lapels. After a second, Darcy lowered Elizabeth back to her feet, giving her more than enough time to make sure her feet wouldn't slide out from beneath her. The process, however Left Elizabeth practically sliding down Mr. Darcy, leaving her very aware of how strong he was.

Elizabeth would have been fine, the stiff breeze would have left her less flushed, less heated, except as soon as Mr. Darcy had released her to walk under her own power, his left arm had curled around her waist, her hip resting in his palm, and his right hand interlaced with her right hand. He walked beside her, but Mr. Darcy's position required them to walk in step with each other and very close together. Even through the heavy layers of cloth, Elizabeth could feel Mr. Darcy's fingers against her, the heat burning through to her bare skin. If Elizabeth so chose, she could merely tilt her head to the side and it would be resting on Mr. Darcy's chest, his very firm, strong chest.

Choking back a moan, Elizabeth decided to speak instead of whimper, "You said you were going to mail some letters?"

"Yes," Darcy reflexively gave Elizabeth's hip a squeeze, causing the woman to inhale sharply. "My sister and my cousin wrote me letters a about a week ago and they just arrived the other day. I thought I should respond as quickly as possible, especially while conditions are good."

Elizabeth nodded, "Yes I was going to write to my aunt and uncle later today and walk into Meryton with it tomorrow. This trip was rather unexpected, for me."

"You had not intended to walk into Meryton today," Darcy asked.

"No," Elizabeth agreed. "I had intended to go for a walk as usual, I desperately needed an escape."

"Oh," Darcy asked as they finally set foot in a very desolate Meryton. Kitty and Lydia were racing between shops, peering in windows and giggling loudly.

"My mother finally found out that Mr. Collins has proposed to Charlotte, and Charlotte has consented," Elizabeth confided.

"You are not happy, do you regret rejecting your cousin," Darcy teased, trying to lighten Elizabeth's mood.

"No," Elizabeth gasped barely holding in the laughter. "Goodness, no. I just thought Charlotte was more sensible than to marry a man that would likely bring her only misery. But she desires safety and security, and that for her is happiness."

Darcy nodded, reluctantly releasing Elizabeth from their very close, near-embrace, reverting to a more proper stance, once again walking beside Elizabeth, her arm tucked in the crook of his. Both missed the closeness, the warmth of the other, but refused to say a word. At least not while things were so…uncertain, and there were eyes that could pry.

"You are upset with your friend," Darcy asked as they began to follow Lydia and Kitty through the village.

"I just don't understand I would rather be unsafe and unsecure but be happy, I would rather be in the hedgerows that my mother complains about than be miserable with a rich man," Elizabeth sulked.

"What if you could have both, Miss Elizabeth," Darcy asked, following her up and into the bookstore.

Elizabeth nodded kindly to the proprietor of the shop and pulled out her list. "Then that would be all very well, but I would rather be poor than miserable any day of the week."

"You are entirely singular, Miss Elizabeth," Darcy smiled, following Elizabeth through the rows of shelves, stopping when she did and commenting on the books out.

Elizabeth hummed lightly in response to Mr. Darcy's attention, trying to find the exact books that Mary and Jane requested. She found most of them with ease. It was the difficulty of finding her own present for Mary. Each book she pulled was disappointing. None of them seemed to suit Mary.

Mr. Darcy was following behind, her, practically reading over her shoulder, and most certainly invading her personal space, and she wouldn't mind so very much, except that Elizabeth could feel his warm breath on her neck, on her cheek.

"Not sermons," Elizabeth muttered to herself, shelving another book. "Hmm."

"What about a book of poetry, or plays," Darcy suggested, reaching to finger the spine of a book near to where Lizzy was looking.

Elizabeth distractedly shook her head, "Mary isn't all that fond of fiction."

"A music book?"

"No," Elizabeth frowned. "Mary spends too much time playing too ill for a new music book to be any use."

Darcy frowned before nudging Elizabeth further down the rows of books, "Philosophy?"

"That may work," Elizabeth agreed. "Here we are," she ran her fingers across several of the books before she stopped. "_The Age of Reason_, sounds very _Mary_. Well it at least has 'reason' in the title."

Darcy nodded and followed Elizabeth to the counter, watching as she chatted fondly with the owner, and exchanging money for the stack of brown-paper wrapped books. The heavy string that kept the package tied was hooked around Elizabeth's fingers as she left the shop, Mr. Darcy following behind.

"Now I just need to go to the fabric store and then I'll be done," Elizabeth sighed happily.

Darcy strode beside her for a few moments before he took a quick stride to get ahead of Elizabeth, turning and blocking her path. "Please allow me to carry your package, Miss Elizabeth," Darcy asked.

Elizabeth frowned before lifting the package for Mr. Darcy to take. He slid his own fingers under the string and extended his other arm, "Thank you, Sir."

"It is my pleasure," Darcy insisted. "Ah I do believe your sisters just left our next destination, shall we?"

"We shall," Elizabeth grinned, starting off across the slightly slushy road.

* * *

Packages all wrapped up, Elizabeth sighed, rather glad that Mr. Darcy was helping her with the shopping. "Well, I think now it is my turn to lend my company to you, Mr. Darcy."

"Yes," Darcy agreed, "I would be very glad to have your company for my trip to drop off my post."

"And how is your sister," Elizabeth asked.

"She is well, my cousin on the other hand is getting into a great deal of trouble," Darcy chuckled. "My cousin attempted to convince me that my sister broke my favorite chair when it was he who had wrecked it beyond repair—but that did not stop him from trying."

"I think that your cousin and I might get along a little too well," Elizabeth giggled. "He and I seem to share a very mischievous spirit."

Darcy shook his head, "Fitz is not mischievous, he is simply trouble, and you, Miss Elizabeth, are anything but trouble."

"I think you have deluded yourself, Sir," Elizabeth smiled as sweetly as she could. She was most certainly trouble. Her mother was quite clear on that.

Darcy led Elizabeth up the mostly clean steps of the shop that also housed the post drop. As it was, Lydia and Kitty were sitting at one of the tables near the front of the shop with cups of tea and tiny cakes to go with, perfectly content to giggle and point at Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy as they strolled along.

Darcy left Elizabeth with her sisters and made short work of arranging for his letters to be sent. That finished, Darcy turned back to the three ladies. "All finished," Darcy asked.

"Lord I am _so_ tired," Lydia whined. "I don't I think I will ever be able to walk again!"

"Then how will you get home," Kitty asked with a snort of laughter. "I don't think Mr. Darcy will carry you."

"La!" Lydia laughed, "If only there were a big, strong, man who would take me away from here! Lizzy can have Mr. Darcy." With a smirk, Lydia was on her feet and pulling Kitty out of the shop, leaving a rather flustered Elizabeth and smirking Mr. Darcy in her wake.

Darcy extended his arm once more, "I am yours, Miss Elizabeth, it seems."

Lizzy caught the teasing in his voice and narrowed her eyes, "Don't look so smug, Sir. Lydia thinks me terribly boring, and if she thinks you will do for me, you must be just as boring as I am!"

"Then we will be boring together," Darcy grinned, "if, of course, you will have me?"

"I suppose," Elizabeth sniffed lightly, "that I have little choice, being so boring."

"Then I heartily accept your proposal," Darcy smirked.

Lizzy stared, "Ridiculous. Perhaps it is not your cousin who is trouble, but you, Mr. Darcy. You are such a tease, I wonder at what your _Lady_ must think."

Darcy smiled to himself, "Oh I think she rather likes this playful side of me, rather than the taciturn bore who stands in the corner."

Lizzy sighed, "Well this _is_ an improvement."

"Then, Miss Elizabeth, you should really see me at home, at Pemberley. I am very nearly the happiest man in the world," Darcy confessed, wanting desperately to spirit Elizabeth away to the greens of Pemberley and be able to kiss her and hold her.

Elizabeth frowned up at the very tall man, "Are you really that different when you are home?"

"Oh entirely," Darcy divulged. "If you are to believe my sister, and my cousin, and Charles, then I am an entirely different person in my own home where I may walk where I please, and relax away from the rules and structure of society."

"Is Pemberley very handsome," Elizabeth wondered.

Darcy paused in his response, "Anything I may say might be taken as boasting, and so I must remain silent until you may judge Pemberley for yourself, Miss Elizabeth."

"I don't think, Mr. Darcy, I will have that opportunity," Lizzy sighed wistfully. She would so like to see Pemberley, if everything that Elizabeth had heard was true, Pemberley was a truly gorgeous house sitting on auspicious grounds.

"I refuse to believe that, Miss Elizabeth, I shall hope beyond reason for hope that you will one day see Pemberley, and love it as I do," Darcy promised Elizabeth, his dark eyes alight with passion.

* * *

_"_Hope springs eternal _in the human breast;_ _Man never Is, but always To be blest: The soul, uneasy and confin'd from home, Rests and expatiates in a life to come_."  
-Alexander Pope, _An Essay on Man, Epistle I_, 1733

* * *

A/N: 15/25. Began to map out how this is going to end. Only 10 chapters to wrap this big shenanigan up! I spent a great deal of this chapter trying to keep the 2 year-old on my lap from 'helping' me type, well that and trying to keep his elbow off my squishy bits. Well no matter how much I gripe, I do love babysitting my nephew, he is such a cutie! Please leave a little review, see you all tomorrow! P.S. This is a quote that has stuck with me for many years, Pope has a way with words, even when he isn't discussing Sylphs.


	16. Promise

Disclaimer: I do not own Pride & Prejudice, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar.

* * *

_16 December, 1811_

Darcy sat reading some business papers in his room, the sun only just above the horizon, when Charles came knocking at his door. "Darcy, are you up?"

Setting his papers aside, Darcy rose to his feet and moved to open the door. There stood Charles, boyish grin, hair askew. "Good morning, Charles."

As Darcy stood aside, as Charles walked into his room. "I am going to visit the Bennet's today, would you care to join me? Caroline is in fighting form this morning, she is actually sitting beside the front door, just in case you try to leave."

"Then it looks like I will be staying right here in my room," Darcy frowned.

Charles nodded slowly, "Or, I could tell her you have already left, and once she storms up to her room we could sneak out?"

Darcy was quite impressed with his friend's sneakiness. It was also a little concerning, for all the many years that Darcy had known Charles, the man had never shown even an ounce of deception.

"That sounds like a brilliant plan," Darcy clapped Charles on the back. "I'll be down after the house rattling door slam, yes?"

"Quite," Darcy grinned. "Well on with it, let the show begin!"

* * *

"Uh-aa," Caroline's shriek echoed through the large halls of Netherfield, quickly followed by heavy clomping as she stormed up the stairs, and the hollow slam of the door before something shattered against the floor.

Darcy wasted no time, he whistled gently and Arcturus was on his heels in a second. "Silent, we don't want to be caught, now do we," Darcy asked archly.

If Georgiana had been at Netherfield, Darcy's cover would have been blown to bits. Darcy attempting to sneak down the hall and the stairs in his stocking feet was more than a little comical. In fact, the entire idea of Fitzwilliam Darcy sneaking was more than a little ludicrous. Darcy could only hope that Charles, who was luckily the only observer, would keep his tongue in check and not ever, _ever_, spill this little escapade. Although, judging by Charles' reddening face that was rather unlikely.

"Ready to go," Charles choked out—disguising a snort of laughter with a cough.

Darcy glared at his friend as he tugged his boots on, "If you laugh, your sister will no doubt hear it, and then we will both be trapped in this damned house without any escape!"

Charles swallowed down a new bout of laughter, "Sorry. Actually, I am a little surprised she hasn't attempted locking us in our rooms. She's furious we keep disappearing, well, more you and than me."

"That's only because you aren't as desperate as I am," Darcy growled. "I'm sure if you had someone attempting to force you into listening to the same three pieces of music over and over you would be as desperate as I am."

"Is that why you kept rubbing your ears after dinner," Charles wondered lightly. "I wasn't really paying attention to what Caroline was playing."

Darcy shook his head and followed the other man out the door, Arcturus following along happily.

* * *

Elizabeth sighed, flexing her fingers for what had to be the hundredth time in an hour. Twirling the twine around her fingers, Elizabeth tightened the knot she was tying around the bundle of herbs before finishing the loop. Setting the bundle to the side, Elizabeth picked up another bundle of lavender and proceeded to tie it up to be dried. Lydia beside her had been drawn upon to hang the bundles up, being the least demanding job. Kitty was cutting the twine and Jane was sectioning the herbs into bundles and sorting them into piles. Lizzy who had always had the quickest and nimblest fingers was tasked with actually tying up the bundles.

Mary was, as always, before the piano, though today she was not playing, she was reading. Mrs. Bennet was roaming between the sitting room and the pantry off the kitchen where the girls were working. She was carrying a plate of sweetmeat and humming as she walked. Mrs. Bennet's mood at increased slightly with the hope that Mr. Bingley would soon propose, and how lovely having a wedding in the new year would be.

"Lord aren't we finished yet," Lydia sighed, slumping against the wooden table.

Jane laughed softly, "Lydia, it is not so bad, we are nearly done. Besides, if we finish this today, we'll be done for the winter."

"My fingers will fall off before we are finished," Lydia complained, her chin quivering slightly.

Lizzy frowned, "Lydia, the less you whine, the sooner you can be finished."

"My arms are so tired, and heavy," Lydia continued, letting her arms flop down from over her head to emphasize the point.

Kitty sighed. Even she knew that the less she whined, the sooner she could finish her task. And Kitty was desperately bored, and tired of the chore she was set. The second youngest girl really wanted to ask if Lizzy would go for a walk with her, Lizzy had been very kind to her lately, and Kitty was enjoying the attention.

Mrs. Bennet wandered into the kitchen and sighed heavily at her second eldest, "Oh Lizzy, let Lydia be!"

Lydia stuck her tongue out at her older sisters and flounced out of the room, leaving Kitty to sigh and nibble at her lip. Jane was the next to leave the room, having actually finished her task, and having offered to finish Lydia's, however Lizzy sent her away.

"There," Lizzy smiled at Kitty, "now that our overly happy sisters are out of the way, we might actually get some work done."

Kitty moved around the table to sit closer to Elizabeth, "Why does mama pay so much attention to Lydia…_and _Jane?"

Lizzy sighed, setting the latest bundle aside and wrapping her arms around Kitty's shoulders. "Jane is the first child and quite the prettiest, and so mama sets her hopes on Jane. Lydia is very similar to mama, and so mama allows Lydia to be as she is."

"But what about us," Kitty pouted, tears of frustration pooling in her eyes.

"Oh," Elizabeth stroked Kitty's hair. "We middle daughters must be strong, stronger than we think possible, but we are survivors, Kitty."

Kitty sniffed, "I don't want to end up like Lydia, or Mary, or Jane."

"And how do you think they will end up," Elizabeth asked softly.

"Lydia will be ruined and married to some fool and be just as foolish, Mary will be lost in her books, and Jane will be so kind that she will be miserable if she doesn't learn to speak up," Kitty whimpered the twine she had been holding falling to the ground.

"Kitty, Kitty," Lizzy cooed, "Jane can speak up, but she sees the good in everyone, and Mr. Bingley understands that, and he is very much like her. I think the only misery in their marriage would be silly arguments about the color of the Christmas ribbon on the garland. Mary may love her books, but that does not mean she will be alone, there are many gentleman who enjoy books just as much, and sometimes more than Mary does. Lydia, you may be right about, but that is why we must guide her away from ruin, and try to keep her head quite attached."

Kitty sniffed, and clung to Lizzy.

"And what about me," Lizzy asked slowly, honestly curious, "will I end up an old maid, or shall I end up married to one of our cousins?"

"Our only cousins left are so young, why would you say something like that, Lizzy?" Kitty shook her head, "No, you are smart and pretty and you can carry on conversations with men that aren't about balls or needlework."

"And you think that recommends me to men as a potential wife," Elizabeth shook her head. "I cannot keep my tongue, Kitty. I think you know me well enough to know that men do not want a wife who will lash them verbally at every turn."

"Mr. Darcy seems to like you very much, Lizzy," Kitty pouted. "And if you marry him, I will be all alone!"

Elizabeth couldn't help the laugh that spilled from her lips, "Oh, Darling, that is very unlikely to happen, and so I shall become an old maid, and make it my life's duty to marry you off to a very handsome and sweet gentleman, alright?"

Kitty choked out a sob of laughter, "Don't make such promises, Lizzy, you don't know what will happen! What if Mr. Darcy takes you away from here?"

Lizzy sighed, "Kitty can I tell you a secret?" Kitty nodded against Elizabeth's shoulder. "I have it from the source himself, that Mr. Darcy is very much love with a woman, and I am certain that she is not me, so I am safe from being kidnapped by Mr. Darcy."

Elizabeth did not see Kitty's brow furrow or the pursed lips, "Okay, Lizzy."

"Now go," Elizabeth ordered the younger girl, "I'll finish up."

* * *

Darcy stood beside Charles in the sitting room of Netherfield as Jane and Kitty agreed to go for a walk. Both girls quickly set aside their sewing and rushed off to put on another layer.

"Oh, I'll check and see if Lizzy is done hanging the herbs," Kitty smiled brightly at the prospect, and _she_ did notice how Mr. Darcy's eyes flickered up in interest before flicking back to Plato who was laying in front of the fire.

As the two men and the dog were left alone, Charles wandered across the room, glancing at the books left abandoned on the table. Charles was quite happy to hum to himself and wander through the room.

Darcy took a step back as Plato climbed to his feet and moved to stand in front of him. No, Darcy shook his head, he would not allow Plato to win this round, Darcy would stand tall and confident.

Returning the glare, Darcy spoke lowly, for Plato's ears alone, "When Elizabeth and I are married, I promise I will get her a dozen adorable Newfoundlands who will love me, and you, my _friend_, will be in very deep trouble."

Plato took a slight step back, but the glare intensified, Plato would not be intimidated, not even by a dozen puppies… Plato sat back on his haunches and looked up at the man, his eyes softening slightly. Alright, maybe Plato would back off a little, but there were certain things Plato was not going to give up on. Plato would not relinquish his spot beside his mistress at any time or place, and he would certainly not allow this man to touch his mistress, _but_ Plato decided he wouldn't glare or growl _so_ much.

Darcy chuckled at the dog, who, was slowly backing down, yes, he would succeed.

* * *

Jane and Charles were the first to set off to walk in the snow, remaining inside the garden for the moment. Kitty waited impatiently as Lizzy pulled her gloves on, Mr. Darcy standing just outside, Plato and his own dog rolling in the snow.

When Kitty and Elizabeth finally stepped outdoors, Kitty bounced over to Mr. Darcy, looping her arm through his and starting off, tugging him along much to his surprise. Elizabeth laughed happily at Kitty's turn of mood and knelt to pet both dogs who had stayed behind to walk with her.

"Hello boys," Lizzy cooed, giggling as both Plato and Arcturus nuzzled against her neck. Elizabeth couldn't help but laugh at how eager both boys were to see her, Plato had been laying sleepily before the fire all day, and Elizabeth hadn't really seen Arcturus in days.

Straightening, Elizabeth followed after the two couples, skipping and flicking snow at the two dogs, watching them leap and roll and snuffle at the snow and at her.

* * *

Kitty peered back at her sister, smiling at how Lizzy was roughhousing with the dogs like she was apt to. Clinging to Mr. Darcy's arm, Kitty skipped forward, dragging the stone-faced man along with her. When they were far enough from prying ears, Kitty turned on the man, face quite serious. "You like Lizzy, don't you, Mr. Darcy," Kitty asked sternly.

"Lizzy," Darcy frowned, "I don't know what you mean."

"My sister, Elizabeth, impertinent, walks a great deal," Kitty pressed.

"Yes," Darcy struggled to control his voice, "what about Miss Elizabeth?"

Kitty rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to stamp her foot, instead she tugged on Mr. Darcy's sleeve, "You like Lizzy!" Kitty watched Mr. Darcy's eyes darken for a moment and he licked his lips, "No, you love her," Kitty sighed with happiness.

"And if I do," Darcy queried.

Kitty did jump with joy then, letting out a little squeal, "Oh I knew it! I am _so _happy, Lizzy looks so happy when she is with you, and you are so sweet to her, the way you carried the packages the other day, and walked with her, ohh." Kitty shook herself, "Only, Lizzy is totally oblivious to you, she thinks you love someone else, you told her you love someone."

Darcy choked down his shock. This young girl was almost _too_ much like Georgiana, full of spirit, and very willing to tease him. "And what do you suggest I do to convince your sister to marry me," Darcy finally asked, he supposed he could use a co-conspirator, especially one so close to Elizabeth.

Kitty frowned, concentrating on the problem at hand, "Hmm, well you have to tell her!"

"What if she rejects me," Darcy asked.

"Oh," Kitty grinned as the answer came to her, "You have to speak to papa! If anyone can make Lizzy see reason it is him!"

"Reason is one thing," Darcy confided, "but I _need_ Elizabeth to love me as much as I do her, how do I do that?"

Kitty leaned her head against Mr. Darcy's shoulder, "I have always wanted a brother, and Lizzy is my favorite older sister, so I promise to help make Lizzy fall in love with you, Mr. Darcy."

Darcy grinned down at the young girl, "Then I suppose we should begin plotting then, shouldn't we, Miss Kitty?"

* * *

"_April is a promise that May is bound to keep."_

_-Hal Borland_

* * *

A/N: 16/25. So Kitty gets a little deeper in the plot. Also if any of you haven't noticed I am so angst-less, that it is a struggle for me to cause trouble. I think this chapter came out of me wanting Darcy to have someone to help him out, I mean come on, Jane is too soft-spoken, Lydia is too self-absorbed, Mary runs off in her own head, and Kitty is left to tag-along, she needed a little spotlight. Also sometime today or early this morning we made it to 200 reviews, far exceeding any expectations I had for this story. My heart is filled with joy. I love you all, and please keep leaving your joyful squeals!


	17. Brave

Disclaimer: I do not own Pride & Prejudice, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar.

* * *

_16 December, 1811_

Kitty kicked at the snow, using Mr. Darcy's arm to keep herself upright as she skipped along. "You should get her a puppy," Kitty exclaimed after a moment.

Darcy almost coughed, having had the exact same thought only in much larger proportion earlier in the day. "And what about Plato?"

"Plato doesn't like you," Kitty told Mr. Darcy simply. "The best you will be able to do there is get his respect, so that he doesn't bite you."

"I cannot simply give Elizabeth a gift," Darcy frowned.

"Well you could," Kitty smirked, "if you just told Lizzy how you feel."

Darcy frowned, "But what if she rejects me?"

"She won't," Kitty huffed. "Just watch her when she walks with you, the way she smiles and her eyes light up, or how she seems to look away. You must have noticed something?"

Darcy frowned, "She may blush and smile at me, but I have no reference point, perhaps she is being indulgent, how can I tell if she loves me?"

Kitty huffed a sigh, "Love is not certain, you have to take a chance? I thought men were supposed to be brave!"

The chuckle that escaped Darcy was unbidden, "I am brave, however this, _Elizabeth_, is not something I am willing to risk losing."

"Yes," Kitty agreed, "but if Lizzy never understands how much you care for her it doesn't matter how much she might love you or you her!" Kitty released Mr. Darcy's arm and skipped ahead to catch up with Jane and Mr. Bingley, leaving Mr. Darcy and Lizzy a chance to talk.

* * *

Darcy fell back, waiting for Elizabeth. It didn't take very long, she was half jogging alongside Plato and Arcturus, a stick in her hands bobbing alongside her, both dogs jumping at it in excitement.

He laughed lowly, and when she came in range slid the stick from her grip and tossed it far away and into a deep pile of snow, both dogs racing after it eagerly, leaving Darcy and Elizabeth quite alone.

Elizabeth chuckled as the dogs tussled in the snow, both getting slightly lost in the scuffle. "I suppose I should thank you for rescuing me."

Darcy bowed lowly, lifting Elizabeth's gloved hand to his lips, "It was my honor, m'lady."

Elizabeth laughed, "My knight in shining, well, not quite armor!"

"I could," Darcy smiled, "if you like, find some armor if it would please you."

Elizabeth bit her lip and glanced away, "I don't think that would be necessary. I think that all that armor might slow you down, especially in this weather, and you wouldn't be nearly so warm."

"Yes all that metal might be a little chilly," Darcy chuckled. "Although it might be worth it, I would, of course, then be the obvious choice to rescue you every time."

"Am I in need of rescuing so often," Elizabeth asked, her eyes widening in alarm. "I wasn't aware."

"Oh yes," Darcy tucked Elizabeth's arm into his and began to walk, leading Elizabeth along. "I have noticed you are quite often in need of a knight in shining armor."

"Hm," Elizabeth sniffed, "I will simply have to break myself of needing a knight. You will not always be here to save me."

Darcy licked his lips, taking a fortifying breath, "And what if was always beside you?"

Elizabeth gave a short scoff of laughter, "I think your future wife would be quite annoyed with me."

"And would Cousin Edward be very irritated with me," Darcy asked jokingly.

"Well I should think that any spouse would dislike being second to someone else," Elizabeth reasoned.

"That is a problem," Darcy agreed, knowing that the wife he had in mind certainly wouldn't have the problem of being second to anyone else.

"Oh yes," Elizabeth muttered, "a problem."

Darcy wasn't quite sure what to say, at least not what to say without admitting right then and there just how he felt about the situation. At last, Darcy decided that a change in the conversation would be the best choice, "Are you excited for Christmas, Miss Elizabeth?"

Lizzy sighed deeply, "I love Christmas, I love the snow, but I think this year will be a little lonely."

"What do you mean," Darcy asked with a frown.

"Usually we would spend the weeks leading up to Christmas baking and sewing and knitting and getting ready to carol, except the snow left the last of the fruit on the trees dead and it is too cold to be out in the evening to carol," Elizabeth admitted. She truly loved all of the traditions of Christmas and the winter season, and as much as she loved snow, this early snow would cut those traditions down a little.

Darcy nodded. Georgiana too enjoyed all of the Christmas traditions. When they were younger they would carol in Lambton with their father, and give out presents to the tenants, and simply enjoy the company of others. Darcy and Georgiana still participated in most of the traditions, but as both had grown older, it had become less _fun_.

A flash of a small child, a girl, curled in his arms ran through Darcy's mind. Oh how Georgiana would love to go caroling with children, she always had. She doted on the village children. Georgiana might actually burst with joy if she had nieces and nephews to spoil right at home.

"That would make the holidays a little lonelier," Darcy agreed. "I am lucky to always have Georgiana and my cousin around the holidays. They make the confinement bearable, and often quite interesting."

"Oh, but this year you have neither," Lizzy pouted on Mr. Darcy's behalf, "well I suppose you _do_ have Miss Bingley to keep you company."

Darcy nearly flinched. "You are a cruel woman," Darcy pretended to be injured, laying his free hand over his heart and stumbling dramatically.

"Hmph," Elizabeth rolled her eyes, "well now I have no sympathy for you, Sir."

"The cruelty," Darcy whined.

Elizabeth moved to comfort him when she was beset upon by a great beast, Arcturus, who had managed to recover the stick from Plato. Arcturus ran between his master and Elizabeth, forcing them to separate, before the dog turned and frantically nudged Elizabeth's thigh with his head, dropping the stick at her feet.

Picking up the stick, Elizabeth tossed it as far as she could. Heaving a sigh of relief as a lunging Plato whirled around at ran back the way he had come.

"Well, I think they both need a little more exercise," Lizzy giggled.

"I suppose I have been neglecting Arcturus," Darcy admitted, stepping closer to Elizabeth and reclaiming her arm. "I think we have all been in great need of a little fresh air."

"I have had plenty of fresh air, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth teased. "Are you so trapped that even nearly daily walks do not provide you with enough freedom?"

"Absolutely," Darcy sniffed, "Charles suspects that we may soon be tied up to prevent escape."

"Oh," Elizabeth laughed. "That seems a little extreme. I highly doubt Miss Bingley would tie you up!"

Darcy leaned his head towards Elizabeth's, "I wouldn't be so certain. This morning we had to sneak out of the house, and not for the first time."

"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth chuckled, "I had thought you were above sneaking, but perhaps I was mistaken. Do you often spend time sneaking around the house?"

Darcy shook his head, "I have not truly had to sneak around since my sister was quite young and she was determined to braid my hair."

Elizabeth had to cover her mouth as she laughed freely, "Mr. Darcy, you are lying, I cannot picture you with your hair in braids!"

"Neither could I," Darcy agreed, "that is why I had to sneak, unfortunately my sister convinced my cousin Fitz to hold me down."

"Is your cousin very strong," Elizabeth wondered.

"He is a Colonel, and two years older than I," Darcy offered, "but I must admit he got the better of me through surprising me."

Elizabeth bit her lip and tried desperately to be serious for a moment, "And how did he surprise you?"

"He shoved me in a cupboard."

Elizabeth's face scrunched up and the laugh broke through. "I am sorry, Sir, but I did not think you would fit in a cupboard."

Darcy cleared his throat in embarrassment. "I was a few years younger than I am now, I was probably a year or so older than you are now, Miss Elizabeth."

"That would still make you quite grown, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth shook her head. Mr. Darcy was hiding something that Lizzy really wanted to know now. "Now that you have told me part of the story, I am determined to know what happened, and how exactly you fit in a cupboard!"

Darcy sighed heavily, "My cousin, you will learn, is quite determined, if he wishes to do something, very little can stop him. So when he decided to trap me in a cupboard the matter size and space were non-issues. So there I was locked in a cupboard with a heap of winter coats and then I was released and tied up and sat upon."

Elizabeth giggled, "And how did you look with braids, Mr. Darcy?"

"_That_," Darcy muttered, "I will take with me to the grave."

"Then perhaps I should make it my life's goal to meet this cousin Fitz, and ask _him_ how well you looked, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth teased.

"Then I shall make it_ my_ life's goal to forbid you from ever meeting him," Darcy returned.

"You," Elizabeth snickered, "forbid me?"

"Yes," Darcy whispered darkly, "and if that fails, I shall have my cousin taken away to the colonies or Australia!"

Elizabeth chuckled, "And your sister, surely you would not send her away?"

"No, I could not," Darcy conceded, "but I could lock her in a tower, and no matter how long her hair may grow, it will never reach the ground, for this tower will be _very_ tall."

Elizabeth bit her lip pensively, "And if, Mr. Darcy, you do succeed, what will stop me from finding out myself, what you look like with your hair all in braids?"

_That_ was a problem, if Darcy had his way, Elizabeth would be beside him forever, and could, if she so chose, braid his hair to her heart's content. Smirking, Darcy stood as tall as he could, "Then it is a very good thing I am so _very _tall, Miss Elizabeth, and you so very small."

Elizabeth's mind drifted to perhaps sitting atop Mr. Darcy and fiddling with his hair, his hands clasped about her thighs, stroking and holding her firmly. She swallowed heavily, fighting the blush that would no doubt rise in her cheeks.

Breathing deeply, Elizabeth slipped her arm free of Mr. Darcy and crossed her arms over her chest, doubling her step and walking away from Mr. Darcy, throwing a soft glare over her shoulder at the man. Inside she was trying not to laugh, Mr. Darcy must have looked quite the sight with braided hair, and Elizabeth would find out everything by hook or by crook.

Darcy lengthened his stride, not willing to allow Elizabeth to get the best of him, no, if she wanted to escape him, he would not allow it.

"Are you so curious, Miss Elizabeth," Darcy called after her, "that you would be so upset with me for not telling you?"

"Yes," Elizabeth replied flatly. "My father taught me to be curious, and if you are hiding what I seek so strongly, it will only make me more curious!"

"I see," Darcy frowned. "However, I am a curious as to how your opinion of me might change, would you think me brave, still, if I told you how dreadful I looked?"

Elizabeth paused, falling back into step with the man, "Bravery is about facing the truth. A brave man takes chances and isn't afraid of what may come."

"Am I still brave, in your eyes, Miss Elizabeth," Darcy asked.

Lizzy mock-sighed, "Yes, I suppose I must still consider you very brave, Mr. Darcy, as your dear cousin is still alive and not in Australia, or so you say."

* * *

"_Fortune favors the brave."_

* * *

A/N: 17/25. I was honestly surprised at how many of you loved Kitty's appearance, and she will remain a featurette here. As to Darcy, poor Darcy, he really should live by the rule that two can keep a secret if one is dead, and poor, poor Fitz…he really has turned into a trouble maker… Anyway, posting this early today because I am headed out for the night with a dear friend and P&P-aholic of mine… Love to all!


	18. Laugh

Disclaimer: I do not own Pride & Prejudice, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar.

* * *

_18 December, 1811_

It was early, when Elizabeth woke, the sun reflecting softly off the crystallized snow. Fresh snow drifted gently down to settle on the accumulated layers. Lizzy's window was frosted over from the cold, and she took great joy in tracing her fingers across the glass, signing her name and drawing mistletoe. There was very little about winter that Lizzy disliked, and so even thought the snow trapped her in doors, Lizzy couldn't help but smile, because she loved the fresh chill in the air and the warmth of the fire in the sitting room too much to begrudge the white powder.

Wrapping herself in a thick blanket, Lizzy sat in the chair beside the window, just watching the snow fall. It didn't take long for Plato to wake up, realize he was alone in the bed and roll to his feet and drop to the floor. Sleepily, Plato settled himself atop his mistress' bare feet. Plato was always very happy to be beside his mistress. When he had been very small, Elizabeth had carried him just about everywhere, and now that he was too big, Plato took it upon himself to be beside Lizzy as much as possible, and care for her as she did for him.

* * *

When Lizzy did venture downstairs, it was far past meal time, and her mother was still in bed. Mary was at the piano banging away, and Jane was fussing over some of her needlework. Lydia was in all likelihood still abed leaving Kitty to her own devices.

Before subjecting herself to along morning of sitting and sewing, Lizzy decided to check in on her father. The library door was open, and Mr. Bennet was half absorbed in a book and half absorbed in cleaning his spectacles. Knocking gently on the door frame, Elizabeth peeked her head into the room.

"Lizzy," Mr. Bennet frowned, "where have you been the last few days?"

Elizabeth stepped into the library, closing the door behind her and curling up on one of the chairs before the large desk. "Out walking," Lizzy smiled as she pulled her feet beneath her.

"Walking, Lizzy," Mr. Bennet chuckled. "And have you found a new hiding place, or have you finally managed to walk into London?"

"Very funny, Papa," Lizzy shook her head at her father's dry wit. "Sometimes I just need a small escape from Mama and Lydia."

"Yes," Mr. Bennet nodded, "that is a fine pair of reasons for escaping the house. And, Lizzy, how has the great outdoors been?"

"Cold, a little wet," Elizabeth hummed, picking at a loose thread in the hem of her dress.

Mr. Bennet turned a page, glancing over his newly cleaned spectacles at his favorite daughter, "And how are your sisters?"

"Jane is in love, Mary is still playing the piano, Kitty is finding her own feet, and Lydia is as silly as ever," Elizabeth recited, smoothing her dress over her legs.

"I see," Mr. Bennet sighed, "so the same as ever, except for my Jane and Kitty."

"Yes," Lizzy laughed softly. "It seems Jane is soon to be engaged."

"Gossiping like your mother now, Lizzy, I am surprised," Mr. Bennet set down his book. "However, I would be interested in how you came to this conclusion about Jane marrying."

"Mr. Darcy is quite certain that Mr. Bingley will soon propose," Elizabeth admitted.

Mr. Bennet nodded, slipping his spectacles from his nose, "And you trust Mr. Darcy?"

Elizabeth nodded shortly, "I do."

"That is a great change from when we last spoke about the gentleman," Mr. Bennet peered at his daughter with curiosity.

"I suppose it is," Elizabeth turned her gaze to the window.

Like pulling teeth, Mr. Bennet pried a little more, "And what, may I ask, is the cause of this change?"

Elizabeth swallowed down her instant reply that would dismiss just about everything, instead Lizzy thought carefully. "I suppose I decided to set my first impression aside and actually get to know Mr. Darcy."

"And your friendship has grown so much in three or four meetings since then," Mr. Bennet questioned.

Elizabeth swallowed. Her father was, sometimes, too sharp, even for her liking and well-being. "This new perspective also allowed me to reassess our previous conversations."

"And Mr. Darcy _does_ improve upon further acquaintance," Mr. Bennet chuckled. "Oh Lizzy, you may have quite the clever tongue, but I am still your father, and my mind is still quick enough to catch you in a fib, Lizzy."

Elizabeth winced, biting her lower lip. "Alright, perhaps I may have met Mr. Darcy once or twice when I went on walks, and we may have talked for a few minutes here and there as a consequence."

"Closer," Mr. Bennet smiled, "but not quite the whole truth, I think. Try again, Daughter."

"Oh," Lizzy huffed. "While I do not dislike Mr. Darcy, he still confuses me greatly. He says one thing and does another and I do not know how to take him at all."

"And what exactly has this Mr. Darcy done that confuses you so, Lizzy," Mr. Bennet asked.

Elizabeth inhaled deeply, there were so many things, so many things in the last 18 days that Elizabeth could tell her father about, except Elizabeth could _never_ tell her father, or anyone, not Jane, certainly not Mary or Lydia. Kitty might listen sensibly. However, the younger girl was a little too friendly with Mr. Darcy on the last walk.

"Forget it," Elizabeth moaned, "I am just being silly and over thinking things." Rising from her seat, Lizzy moved around the desk, kissed her father's cheek and vacated the library, leaving her father to his small piece of peace once more.

Elizabeth sat beside Kitty on the settee, helping the younger girl once more with her needlework. As Elizabeth hummed softly to herself and worked on her own knitting, Kitty watched her older sister out of the corner of her eye.

"Lizzy," Kitty asked, "will you sit next to me during tea."

Elizabeth frowned, "I was going to take Plato for a walk, would you care to join me instead?"

"But Lizzy," Kitty sighed, "Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy are coming for luncheon and tea, didn't Jane tell you?"

"No," Elizabeth frowned, "Jane hasn't told me anything today."

"Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy are coming to visit," Kitty reiterated. "I cannot wait!"

Elizabeth looked at her sister, "Why are you so eager to see those gentlemen?"

Kitty giggled, "Mr. Darcy is rather kind, when he isn't scowling."

"And you like Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth asked tentatively.

"Oh yes," Kitty giggled, "and if he likes me, maybe Mr. Darcy will let me visit once you two marry!"

Elizabeth choked on her breath, "Oh Kitty, I have said it before, I very much doubt that Mr. Darcy and I will ever be anything more than friends."

"Lizzy," Kitty pouted, "I think that Mr. Darcy likes you more than you think. He is so kind to you, and he is so very attentive."

"I think you might be imagining things, Kitty."

"I am not!" Kitty huffed softly before turning to Elizabeth again, "Mr. Darcy danced with only _you_, Lizzy, and he walks with you, and he, well he likes you Lizzy!"

Elizabeth sighed, "Yesterday you were terrified I would leave you, and today you are determined to marry me off. Have you been talking to mama?"

"No," Kitty responded petulantly.

Lizzy laughed softly, giving Kitty's hand a squeeze before turning back her own work.

* * *

Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy had indeed accepted an invitation to have luncheon and tea, which found Elizabeth sitting beside one Mr. Darcy and her father. Kitty sitting across from Elizabeth couldn't help the small smirk that crossed her lips. She had been quite convincing when she had begged her mother to put her beside Mr. Bingley because he was ever so charming. That had guaranteed Kitty the farthest seat possible from Mr. Bingley.

"Papa," Kitty turned to her father, "Plato doesn't like Mr. Darcy, isn't that funny."

Mr. Darcy nearly swallowed his tongue at that rather loud announcement. Mr. Bennet could only chuckle into his coffee, "Is that so, Kitty?"

"Yes, Papa," Kitty giggled, ignoring Lizzy's foot on her toes.

"Well perhaps Plato is smarter than I had always thought," Mr. Bennet chuckled darkly, one eye trained on the man in question.

"Papa," Elizabeth frowned, "that is cruel. Plato has always been one of the smartest men of our acquaintances, and you shouldn't lie."

"Yes, yes, Lizzy," Mr. Bennet dismissed, "but I must admit that Plato disliking men who are near my daughters does incline me to give him a little more bacon."

The click of nails on wood was heard before Plato's head emerged from under the table, settling itself firmly in Elizabeth's lap. Darcy couldn't help but notice _that_. Mr. Darcy then noticed Elizabeth's hand snatching a piece of beef from her plate and secreting it to Plato who happily whuffed it down.

"Oh," Mrs. Bennet cried. "Mr. Bennet how can you say such a thing! The girls will never find suitable husbands if you set _that_ dog on them!"

"Well," Mr. Bennet laughed, "I suppose I could part with four of the girls, but not my Lizzy!"

Elizabeth laughed and leaned over a little, laying her hand over her father's, "And you likely never shall, Papa."

"No," Mr. Bennet sighed, squeezing Lizzy's hand, "with my luck, my three most sensible daughters will be quickly married and I will be left quite alone with my silly wife and my silly daughter."

"Oh Papa," Jane chuckled, "I am sure everything will turn out."

"Jane, dear," Mr. Bennet coughed lightly, "you are entirely too happy sometimes."

* * *

"What, may I ask, are you knitting," Mr. Darcy asked as he interlaced his fingers.

Lizzy glanced up from her needles to look at Mr. Darcy who was leaning quite a bit forward in his chair. "A cap," Elizabeth responded.

"For whom," Darcy pressed, reaching forward and fingering the soft gray wool.

"No one in particular," Elizabeth told him, her needles stilling for a moment as she looked up.

"You enjoy knitting," Darcy pressed, well aware that Kitty was glaring at him over her sister's head.

Elizabeth nodded, "Yes, it takes my mind off of whatever happens to be running through my head."

"I thought that was why you walked," Darcy said.

"That too."

"Lizzy," Kitty leaned down behind her sister, "are you boring Mr. Darcy?"

"No," Elizabeth answered unsure of what Kitty was up to. "What are you doing, Kitty?"

"Will you teach me to knit," Kitty made her way around the settee and plopped down beside Elizabeth.

A little startled, Elizabeth blinked, "Alright, what brought this on?"

"I just want to learn," Kitty smiled before the smile turned to a smirk, "would you like to learn as well, Mr. Darcy?"

Darcy frowned for a moment but was quickly spurred into answering as Kitty kicked him in the shin with the ball of her foot. Elizabeth, fortunately, missed that, as she was busy digging through a basket of yarn and needles beside her.

"I suppose it learning wouldn't hurt," Darcy offered.

Elizabeth nodded silently, rooting around for another pair of needles, "Then you might be able to give your sister a few tips."

Darcy laughed softly before clearing his throat, "I wouldn't dare. I am no expert, and even under your tutelage, Miss Elizabeth, I doubt I could even compare to Georgiana's skills."

Kitty giggled and took the needles that Elizabeth offered her, and Darcy his. Next she gave each a length of yarn.

"Alright, first you make a loop of yarn and pull the loose end through, making a hangman's noose," Elizabeth demonstrated slowly and repeatedly, allowing Kitty and Mr. Darcy to follow along. "Then you tighten it on your needle and take your ends and wrap them around your thumb and forefinger."

Darcy frowned, "Now I understand why my scarf is full of holes."

"This is the _easy_ part," Elizabeth giggled. "Now you just need remember to go under, around down, and tighten," Elizabeth threaded the needle through the yarn.

Kitty's eyes were wide as she frowned in concentration, she had seen her sister knitting for years, and now she understood how difficult it was.

Darcy on the other hand, was attempting to follow along as best as he could, but his fingers simply weren't obeying him. And then all hell broke loose as Elizabeth's fingers entered his field of vision, straightening the yarn and curling around his hand and guiding the needle.

"There you go," Elizabeth smiled. "You'll be an excellent knitter in no time."

Darcy chuckled, reveling in Elizabeth's touch. "I think I should really leave the teaching to you, Miss Elizabeth, and not mess my sister's knitting up anymore than it already is."

"Laugh now, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth grinned, "but by Christmas I will have you knitting like you have been doing it for years."

* * *

"_I love people who make me laugh. I honestly think it's the thing I like most, to laugh. It cures a multitude of ills. It's probably the most important thing in a person."_

_-Audrey Hepburn_

* * *

A/N: 18/25. Spent the afternoon getting a cavity filled, and the evening attempting to drink without spilling on myself, and then I had to re-teach myself to knit in order to be able to describe it even slightly. Thanks for all the love, see you all tomorrow!


	19. Undone

Disclaimer: I do not own Pride & Prejudice, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar.

* * *

_18 December, 1811_

Darcy's knitting needles stilled as his gaze drifted from the yarn to Miss Elizabeth Bennet. After a very quick lesson, Elizabeth had turned to her sister, curling her hands around her sister's and guiding several of the stitches onto the bare needle before releasing Kitty's hands.

Glancing up, Elizabeth frowned as she watched several stitches drop from Mr. Darcy's needles. He wasn't so far or so neatly done that it was a true loss. Reaching across the short distance, Elizabeth slid the yarn from the needles and with a quick tug unraveled the mess.

Mr. Darcy started, "How is it that something so difficult comes undone so easily?"

"That, Mr. Darcy, is the beauty of it," Elizabeth couldn't help but smile. Without effort and patience and a loving hand the fragile stitches would fall apart, come totally undone. That was the beauty in knitting, it so closely mimicked life. Each stitch was a person. Each stitch linked to another, and if they weren't carefully linked and added to the entire creation would come apart with the slightest tug.

Darcy didn't particular understand how something that was so easily destroyed was made beautiful through that ability, however the utterly peaceful, soft smile that spread across Elizabeth's face made him long to understand. Suddenly, without the needles to occupy his hands, Darcy felt at odds. He wanted, desperately, something to do, but there was nothing to occupy his nerves. Darcy could only watch Elizabeth, watch her smile as she knitted and watch her quickly adjust her sister's hands, and then smile up at him with an ease that had him coming undone.

"Is that why you knit," Darcy asked softly, not wanting to startle her from her own work.

Elizabeth stopped mid-stitch, glancing up, "In part, it is also very relaxing, you know."

"For you perhaps," Darcy scoffed, "my fingers would hardly obey my mind."

Kitty snickered, "Yes, but you're a man!"

"Men were actually some of the first who took up knitting," Elizabeth rebutted Kitty's argument.

"Then Mr. Darcy has no excuse," Kitty giggled. "Maybe you should work with him and not me Lizzy!"

"No," Darcy swallowed, "as excellent a teacher you may be, I do not think we, Miss Elizabeth, should give my cousin any more fodder to tease me over."

"Oh yes," Elizabeth bit her cheek to keep from laughing, "Cousin Fitz might never give you a moment's rest!"

"But Lizzy will save you," Kitty nudged her sister before turning to Darcy, "Lizzy is very brave!"

"Is she," Darcy asked Kitty. "Can she defend me against a Colonel?"

"Lizzy can do anything," Kitty informed Mr. Darcy. "Lizzy once ran into Meryton when Papa was ill to get the doctor, in the middle of the night!"

Elizabeth couldn't help the blush. That was not bravery. That was blind panic. Elizabeth loved so strongly that her heart broke at the unhappiness of her family, even her mother and Lydia caused her heartache. As much as Lizzy got annoyed by her youngest sister and her mother, Elizabeth loved without limits.

"I know very well how strong your sister can be," Darcy smiled at the woman of his affections. He had seen her petticoat six inches deep in mud and soaked through to the bone, and Elizabeth had never looked lovelier, her love shining through her eyes.

"And loving," Kitty added. "Lizzy is _so_ sweet to everyone."

"I know that too," Darcy agreed. "Your sister is a very singular young woman."

Elizabeth inhaled slowly, she was becoming slightly irritated, what was Kitty up to, and Mr. Darcy was only encouraging her. That could lead nowhere good. "_She_ is right here," Elizabeth set aside her knitting and stood up, quickly moving out of the room and into her father's library.

* * *

Mr. Bennet could only sit in silence, his brow quirked as Elizabeth paced in front of the fire. After a good quarter of an hour, Mr. Bennet could sit in silence no longer.

"What has happened now?"

Elizabeth huffed, and continued to pace, "He is just so confusing!"

"Mr. Darcy, I presume," Mr. Bennet stood up and moved across the room to stand by the fire.

"Yes," Elizabeth growled. "He continues to compliment me to no end! I cannot make any sense of it!"

"Perhaps, Elizabeth," Mr. Bennet offered, "Mr. Darcy likes you."

"Impossible," Elizabeth dismissed.

Mr. Bennet frowned, "And why is that an impossibility?"

"Because Mr. Darcy cannot possibly like me!"

"And why can Mr. Darcy _not_ like you, Lizzy," Mr. Bennet asked.

Elizabeth wanted to scream in frustration, but knowing that they had guests, and the fact that she was no Lydia stopped her, "Because he does _not_ like me."

"Daughter," Mr. Bennet frowned, "you will quickly learn that when you tell a man what he should not and can not, they quickly do exactly what you believe they should not. How do you think I ended up with five daughters?"

Elizabeth snorted with laughter, "Oh Papa."

"And so Lizzy, it comes to me to ask why you seem so upset," Mr. Bennet asked.

Elizabeth frowned, "I am not upset."

"Well you are certainly not indifferent to the man."

Elizabeth knew very well what her father was implying, "I am indifferent!"

"Of course you are, Lizzy, you don't like the man at all."

"I don't," Elizabeth huffed her cheeks glowing with embarrassment and anger, completely undone.

* * *

Richard Fitzwilliam paced in the large sitting room, his eyes skimming the letter he held. Georgiana was curled up in a chair before the fire reading her own letter.

"Well Georgiana," Richard took a long step towards his young cousin, "what does your brother write?"

"Hmm," Georgiana clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Brother asks what the best way to convince a lady to marry him would be."

"And what would you suggest, Georgie," Richard grinned.

The petite blonde girl leaned forward in excitement, "I think a nice kiss would do."

"That wouldn't be too forward," Fitz asked.

Georgiana leaped to her feet, twirling on her toes before coming to a stop, "But it would be _so_ romantic, and it could hardly be misconstrued. If my brother loves this girl, and there must be a girl, or he wouldn't even hint, he must let her know!"

"On that we agree, Georgie," Richard folded his own letter. "Your brother may be quite competent at everything he does, but he has never before attempted to woo a woman into marrying him."

Georgiana frowned, "So he told you about her?"

"Her name is Elizabeth," Richard revealed, "and she has your brother in knots."

"Oh," Georgiana pouted, "I do so enjoy seeing brother come undone, he gets so flustered."

"Yes well if we play our cards right, Dear, we may be able to see the man be reduced to a whimpering mess," Richard smirked. "You should write a letter, I have a letter of my own to write and a favor to call in."

"What are you planning, Cousin," Georgiana stared at the man.

"Do you know where your mother's posie ring is," Fitz asked slowly.

Georgiana nodded, "Yes, I have it upstairs, why?"

"Well," Richard drawled, "I thought perhaps I might send a friend of mine who owes me a little favor with our letters and perhaps a ring so Darce could hurry things along."

Georgiana grinned, "Of course! I'll go get it!"

The young girl raced out of the room, leaving Richard to make a short foray out into the frozen streets of London.

_18 December, 1811_

_Dear Brother,_

_ You must tell me who Cricket's new friend is! I cannot believe Cricket would tease you, or that you would allow such a thing. Who did you dance with, Brother. It is not fair to tease me so. As to what you should do to convince a woman to marry you is easy, you must hold her in your arms and kiss her! No woman could resist you then, Brother. You should kiss her under the mistletoe. That would be so romantic. Oh I cannot wait to meet her, and you cannot deny that there is a woman you are in love with, I know you too well, Brother._

_ Is the dog hers? I think I would like Plato, and this girl, if she is anything like her dog. You have gotten everything a little too easily in life, it is funny to imagine you struggling to get what you want. I don't mean to be cruel, but Papa always told us that what we worked for would be the most rewarding._

_ Is she pretty, is she sweet, I know she likes animals and to laugh, but tell me more. I am so excited, I cannot wait to see you and hear all about her in person. _

_Love,_

_Georgie_

Fitz on the other hand was busy writing his own letter, and trying not to lean over Georgiana's shoulder and read her letter. Georgiana was smart enough that she knew she had to seal her letters with wax to keep Richard out. Instead, he sealed his own fairly sloppily written letter and set to work on the ring.

It was a delicate silver piece and the words "Love & Friendship" etched on the inside, the very sentiments that had induced the late Mr. Darcy into marrying his wife Anne. It was their marriage that Darcy, Georgiana, and even Richard had judged marriage by their entire lives. And as troublesome as Richard was, even he knew how to present a ring to a woman, Darcy on the other hand would probably bungle the whole thing. Richard, being the rather whimsical romantic of the family, happily tied the ring with a nice red bow before slipping it in a nice velvet pouch to keep it safe.

Richard had been quick to make his run into the less posh area of London and find one of his comrades that owed him a bit of a debt. Richard happened to be quite the card player, and it was the misfortune of more than a few gentlemen in the military to have met and fallen for his fool-act. Richard had bet more than a small fortune against one gentleman, and been more than happy to take the payment in the form of a favor. Favors had the benefit of never being stolen, while money often slipped away only moments after having been won. With this favor being called in, Richard could ensure that both his and Georgiana's letters would arrive quickly in Hertfordshire, and the ring would be in Darcy's hands well before Christmas.

When Georgiana and Richard saw the soldier off, Georgiana was nearly in hysterics at the idea that perhaps, her Christmas wish might just come true, and Richard was just as eager to meet a lady that could torture Darcy so efficiently.

* * *

After Elizabeth had stormed off, Kitty had only grinned in triumph and assured Darcy that it was a very good sign. No woman who was indifferent to a man would react as Lizzy had to a little flattering. Darcy had been slightly comforted by that, however, when Elizabeth did return to the sitting room for tea, she had ensconced herself by the window and studiously ignored him and everyone else in the room besides Plato.

It fell to Darcy to once again lay on the charm as he and Charles departed the house. While everyone was fully absorbed in Charles and Miss Jane, Darcy turned to Elizabeth and lifted her hand to his lips, kissing the back gently before rotating her wrist and kissing the soft skin of her inner wrist.

Smiling in triumph as he felt her pulse flutter, Darcy moved to release her hand only to find himself suddenly holding Elizabeth upright, Kitty standing just behind her sister, a mischievous smirk on her lips and her eyes sparking dangerously. One of Darcy's arms was wrapped around Elizabeth's waist, holding her to him, and his other was still holding her hand, although their entwined hands had become pressed against Darcy's chest.

Eyes wide, Elizabeth stepped back, casting a scandalized look back at her sister. Kitty was certainly up to something, Lizzy was sure now.

"Good day, Miss Elizabeth," Darcy spoke softly as he reluctantly released her from his grasp.

Elizabeth flashed a weak smile, her heart fluttering in her chest, and her resolve coming completely undone, Mr. Darcy had her entirely off balance. "Good day."

She hadn't meant to let her voice sound so breathless, but Mr. Darcy had a power over that left her entirely at odds every time they met. Yes, Elizabeth was completely in love with the man, completely possessed by desire for him, even though she knew she shouldn't be.

* * *

"_What reason weaves, by passion is undone."_

_-Alexander Pope_

* * *

A/N: 19/25. Thought I would have a little change of pace, slowly we are getting to the end, and I am so eager. Thank you all for the lovely reviews, see you tomorrow.


	20. Desperately

Disclaimer: I do not own Pride & Prejudice, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar.

* * *

_20 December, 1811_

The occupants of Netherfield Park were roused in the dark of morning by a loud thudding on the front door. Frantically dressing, Darcy shoved his feet into his boots and wrapped his dressing gown tighter around him before daring to peak his head out of his room. Seeing Charles in much the same state as he was, Darcy stepped out of his room and walked over to his friend.

"Who do you suppose that is," Darcy asked.

Charles shrugged, blinking sleepily, "I don't know, shall we go find out?"

"No," came a shrill shriek. Both men looked behind them to see Caroline wide eyed and barely clutching a dressing gown around her shoulders as she shivered. "It's the savages! They've come to take me as their queen! You cannot leave me!"

Charles and Darcy exchanged a look at the woman's hysteria. She was clearly still half asleep, but she was determined that it was the 'savages' come to get her. She continued to rant and rave about how she couldn't possibly survive such savagery, even as a queen. Charles had to pull a very quick maneuver when Caroline desperately flung herself at Darcy, only to find her brother well in her way.

Charles helped his almost disappointed sister to her feet before speaking with a smile, "You had better go hide then, don't you think?"

Caroline's eyes had, if it were even possible, gone even wider before she raced down the hall and barricaded herself back in her room.

Mrs. and Mr. Hurst took all of two seconds to make sure the halls were still standing before retreating right back into their room leaving Charles and Darcy to descend the stairs and see just who was at the door.

Charles' manservant was already at the door holding a musket, just in case, and a candle to light the entryway. The door was hauled open and all three men were struck with the frigid wind that cut straight through their bedclothes and robes. However, through the bracing wind and the snow, there was a figure in red.

"Fitz sent me," the man spoke over the wind.

Darcy nodded to Charles and the man was quickly ushered inside and his horse rushed to the stables by one of the stable-boys who was already awake. The soldier was escorted by Darcy and Charles into the library and given a large glass of mulled wine to warm him.

"Richard sent you," Darcy asked, panic swelling in his gut. "Is everything alright, is Georgiana alright?"

The man nodded quickly, "I owed Fitz a favor and he needed me to deliver a pair of letters and a package." Those items were quickly handed over and Darcy sunk into a chair to read the letters, not caring one whit that he might be acting a bit rude.

Charles quite understood his friend's distraction, and so busied himself with their early visitor. "I am Charles Bingley, welcome to my home."

The tall, blonde haired man nodded, "I thank you. I am Erik, Erik Smythe. I do apologize for interrupting you so early in the day. However, Richard demanded I make it here as quickly as possible from London."

Charles nodded, "Please, you must be tired, allow me to show you a room."

"I would appreciate that," Erik agreed, following the man out of the cold library.

Darcy skimmed Georgiana's letter quickly, assuring himself that she seemed well, and that Richard hadn't done something idiotic. Fitz may have been trouble, however, he wasn't so foolish that he would bother to send him bad news along with old letters.

Setting Georgiana's letter aside, Darcy couldn't help but chuckle at how intuitive she was growing to be. There had been a time where Darcy could pull the wool over Georgie's eyes about the most obvious things, but she was growing up and growing wiser. She was also becoming a little like her cousin, a little troublesome, _mistletoe_, a cheeky suggestion. Turning to Fitz's letter he couldn't help but scoff at the utterly sloppy handwriting. While Charles took great pleasure in his rapidity, Fitz could actually write very well when he set his mind to it, however, when he was excited all manner of errors slipped in. Half formed letters, smears of ink, and words which were almost indecipherable because they were bunched together or slanting into other lines. It was in a word, atrocious.

_18 December, 1811_

_Darcy,_

_ Oh-ho, Man! I wish I was there to see you all red-faced and bumbling. I could probably make a pretty shilling on the whole affair. So her name is Elizabeth, pretty, is her name even half as pretty as she is? Come on, Man, admit to it! As to Georgiana not being hopeful, well you're doomed there. She's all on board and all I have actually admitted was the young lady's name. Georgiana, however, may be in the process of bribing me to hold you down so she can question you herself. I suggest you marry the girl at once, and use her as a human shield… If we distract your sister, perhaps we might both escape with our skins._

_ Oh yes, we've sent along a little something to perhaps help you out in your pursuit of Elizabeth. Do you call her Lizzy, or Liz, or Bethy? You must have some pet name for her, Elizabeth is entirely too formal, she's going to be your wife, do tell. Unless, you don't call her something completely sappy, do you? I once knew a girl who insisted that I call her Sugarplum, how revolting. Might I suggest 'Master of My Life' or perhaps 'Dearest, Darlingest, Sweetheart' as alternatives? _

_ Well good luck man, you shouldn't have too much trouble. In fact, I would have sent a special license along with, but Georgiana would have killed us both! At the moment she's neck deep in planning out a wedding, and a present for her new sister. That girl is a force of nature, and I am infinitely glad she your sister and not mine, or I might have already been tricked into a marriage._

_Your favorite cousin,_

_Richard Fitzwilliam_

Darcy could swear his cousin was just a little mad. Although, he had to admit, Georgiana was a force of nature at times, and she had been hinting for years about Richard finding a lady to settle down with and marry. In truth, Darcy was a little concerned at the matchmaking streak that Georgiana seemed to be gaining. Perhaps it could be attributed to a little too much time in the company of Aunt Catherine.

Setting aside Fitz's letter, Darcy pulled the small brown package apart, the paper shredding easily. Inside was a red satchel, and inside the red satchel was a very familiar object. Darcy inhaled softly as the silver ring fell into his palm.

Darcy's mother had worn the ring everyday of his life without fail. The small, delicate words inscribed on the inside of the band described perfectly how Darcy had always imagined his own marriage to be: Love & Friendship. It was what he had seen growing up. His father had loved his mother yes, but they were friends as well, and they were more partners in life than a man and his wife. Darcy had grown used to the idea of having someone beside him in all matters, not simply a woman who looked pretty and gave him a son. The young man wanted, more than anything, to be a good husband, to be a husband who could simply hold his wife and whisper to her in the night, and love her without restraint.

Darcy wanted desperately to be that husband, but his idea of marriage had shifted slightly, it was not a nameless, faceless wife he imagined, it was Elizabeth. It was Elizabeth that Darcy imagined wrapping his arms around and kissing her cheek, her neck. He would Promise her the world if only she would smile that easy loving smile once more. And his dreams were increasingly about how lovely Elizabeth would look with her belly round with his child, their child.

Those thoughts drew him into the past, into the months before Georgiana was born, and Darcy's father had doted on his wife. How he had taken so much pleasure in laying his hands on his wife's belly and feeling Georgiana move. George and Anne Darcy had created a life and relationship based off of love, respect, and friendship, and it never failed them. Their son had grown into the idea, and meeting Miss Elizabeth Bennet had only cemented the idea more firmly in his mind.

* * *

Sitting beneath the Oak tree, Elizabeth waited, though she would deny the accusation, for Mr. Darcy. Kitty had been dropping sly hints constantly over the last day and a half, hints that were not so much hints as a desperate talking up of Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth did not need to have Mr. Darcy talked up, no, she certainly did not. Elizabeth was, if nothing else, desperately in love with the man.

Elizabeth was tired of trying to hide her feelings, she wanted nothing more than to crawl into Mr. Darcy's arms. _Fitzwilliam_, her heart whispered. And she longed to call him by his Christian name. She wanted to feel his lips brush against her cheek once more, feel his fingers threaded in her hair.

Some days, some moments, Elizabeth was almost convinced that Mr. Darcy felt as she did. Those were the best moments. Where she was just Elizabeth and he was simply Fitzwilliam, and there were no rules, and he held her and everything else in the world slipped away. But then, without fail, she became Miss Elizabeth, and he, Mr. Darcy. Rules and etiquette rushed back, and the hairsbreadth that had separated them became a chasm.

It was in the hours after those moments that Elizabeth hated herself, hated Mr. Darcy, and wanted him gone. It was torture, having him so near, so sweet and kind, but not having him at all. In those hours, those sigh-filled hours, Elizabeth wondered if it would have been better had the snow not come early, if Mr. Darcy had taken Mr. Bingley and gone to town. Would she feel so stretched, so desperately unbalanced?

Curling in on herself, Elizabeth drew her legs up to her chest and rested her chin atop her knees. Elizabeth wanted to sob, wanted to kick and scream at Mr. Darcy. Except she couldn't. She couldn't blame him, not when he made everything possible with just a word or a touch.

"Miss Elizabeth," came the warm voice Lizzy knew too well: Mr. Darcy.

Lifting her head, Elizabeth watched the familiar form move closer with long, powerful, strides. Smiling gently, Elizabeth stared up at the man, not bothering to rise, the more the met, the fewer rules of etiquette they observed. "Mr. Darcy," she responded softly.

Without waiting, the tall man folded himself to sit beside Lizzy. His arm brushed gently against hers. Elizabeth couldn't help but frown, usually Mr. Darcy goaded her into speaking, tempted her to voice her opinion on anything and everything. Today Darcy was uncharacteristically silent with Lizzy. Head tilted to watch him, Elizabeth noted the soft glazed look of his eyes, and the light shadows beneath them, and how he seemed almost drawn.

Reaching out, Elizabeth ran her gloved knuckles across Mr. Darcy's cheek, "Are you feeling well?"

He turned his head to face her, catching her hand with his and bringing it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. He didn't release her hand however. He held it to chest, stroking his fingers across her covered flesh with care. "Fine," Darcy responded, holding her hand a little closer, desperately coveting her touch, her warmth. "I am fine, Elizabeth," he breathed.

Lizzy frowned to herself, he didn't seem fine, but she wouldn't press him.

Darcy held her hand in one of his, and his other was tucked in his coat pocket, twirling a very precious ring around the tip of his forefinger. These quiet, intimate moments were all the hope and encouragement Darcy needed.

* * *

"_You can have anything you want if you want it desperately enough. You must want it with an inner exuberance that erupts through the skin and joins the energy that created the world."_

_-Sheilah Graham_

* * *

A/N: 20/25. Well this was written in a bit of a rush, I'm off to back four dozen sugar cookies and then frost them, so Darcy had to get a move on. Some of you may be a little annoyed with Lizzy's obliviousness, but I hope this chapter helped you understand her a bit more. Very nearly to 300 reviews, which is just impossibly wonderful, see you all tomorrow!


	21. Frantic

Disclaimer: I do not own Pride & Prejudice, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar.

* * *

_21 December, 1811_

Elizabeth woke to someone poking her cheek, and then there was laughter, and bouncing. Cracking one eye open, Elizabeth glanced at the figure hovering half over her.

"Kitty," Elizabeth sighed, "what exactly are you doing?"

"Waking you up," Kitty grinned, flopping down on top of Lizzy, forcing the breath out of her.

"And why are you waking me up," Lizzy wheezed, trying to shift Kitty's weight just slightly.

Kitty rolled slightly so Lizzy could sit up, "Come on Lizzy, you have to tell me everything!"

"Everything," Lizzy asked, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

"Yes," Kitty pushed, "everything! Where were you yesterday, did you see a certain someone?"

Elizabeth coughed as her breath got caught in her throat in surprise. "Yesterday," it was a faint question.

"Yes," Kitty sighed in exasperation, "yesterday. You disappeared after luncheon and didn't return for hours! I was beginning to wonder if you had run away!"

"I, I went for a walk," Elizabeth muttered, sitting up further and pulling the blankets closer.

"A walk with whom," Kitty giggled.

"No one," Elizabeth spoke.

"Oh," Kitty pouted. "I would have thought Mr. Darcy would have met you, or come to sweep you away."

Elizabeth swallowed heavily, "And why would Mr. Darcy do such a thing."

"Because he loves you," Kitty groaned, "I know it, can't you tell!"

Elizabeth shifted, sliding out from underneath the covers, "Kitty, that is not funny or clever."

"Lizzy," Kitty growled, "Would you stop being so…so stubborn! Can't you tell Mr. Darcy cares for you?"

"We are friends, Kitty, and nothing more," Lizzy denied.

"You are lying to yourself then," Kitty huffed and headed to the door, "He _loves_ you, Lizzy, I wish you would let him."

Elizabeth was shaken. Now more than ever Elizabeth needed an escape. She was anxious and frazzled, she needed desperately to run, to move, to not be anywhere around people. Frantically, Elizabeth shoved clothing on, she didn't bother matching her socks, or tying back her hair, she honestly couldn't afford to waste time like that.

Plato was still half asleep when Lizzy dodged past him. Lizzy didn't wait for the dog, she was out of the house in record time. She didn't bother stopping for her extra scarf, or her knitting, or a snack, or anything. Elizabeth was just gone.

* * *

Darcy sat across from Charles in Netherfield's library. Both men were sipping on port and skimming through business papers, Charles slightly less focused than usual. Darcy on the other hand wasn't actually reading the papers in front of him. He was more absorbed in the real task at hand. Darcy had spent much of his morning plotting and planning, and Darcy was half certain he had come up with the best way to keep Elizabeth by his side, at least, for Christmas.

The problem Darcy faced now, was convincing Charles to believe that the whole thing was _his_ idea, and not Darcy's. "Only a few more days," Darcy mused, flipping the piece of paper he held over.

Charles looked up and smiled, "Isn't it wonderful, all the snow."

"Yes," Darcy agreed, "the snow is very beautiful, however makes the holiday season a little less joyful."

"What can you mean by that," Charles snorted. "Snow is very in the spirit, it is very joyful!"

"There have been no carolers, no Christmas balls, no children playing in the snow," Darcy sighed, "As joyful as the snow is, it has limited the sense of community."

"I hadn't thought about that," Charles scowled. "I suppose that is true."

"Miss Elizabeth was just telling me how she and Miss Jane always looked forward to spending time with other families in the neighborhood."

"Miss Jane never mentioned it," Charles' face fell. "Do you think she is sad about not going to a Christmas ball?"

Darcy ran a hand over his face, covering the slight tick in his cheek. "I do not think the lack of a Christmas ball is really any call for sadness?"

"Well, I suppose not," Charles admitted sheepishly. "But a ball would allow for meeting friends once again."

"Yes," Darcy agreed. "But there will be no balls this Christmas."  
"No." Charles suddenly leaped to his feet, "Do you think, maybe this is mad, but, what if we invited the Bennet's for Christmas?"

Darcy smirked, "Do you mean a small get together, Christmas day?"

"No," Charles exclaimed, "Much bigger, better! Two or three days!"

Darcy's brow quirked, convincing Charles to host the Bennet clan was quite a bit easier than he had suspected. "That will take a lot of work, a lot of planning."

"Just think of it though," Charles grinned, "we could have Christmas dinner, and exchange gifts, and be merry together!"

"And Miss Jane," Darcy prompted.

"I could propose," Charles sighed happily, flopping down into his chair.

"Then I suppose you should set to work planning this, and then you must extend the invitation, personally, I should think," Darcy advised.

"Right you are," Charles leaped up once more, "things to do, people to see!"

Darcy rose from his own seat and retreated from the room and the increasingly frantic man. He had things of his own to attend to while Charles made arrangements.

* * *

Her teeth clenched, and her breath only came in short sharp pants. Elizabeth was lost in her thoughts as her feet took her exactly where she wanted to go. If Elizabeth had been more aware of her surroundings, perhaps her breathing would have been labored, or if the jolting anger hadn't spurred her on. She had walked nearly four miles when she finally stopped, finally looked up from her thoughts.

"Ridiculous," Elizabeth breathed as she kicked at the mounds of snow. "Entirely ridiculous, that girl…"

Shaking herself, Elizabeth started walking again, this time well aware of exactly where she was walking too. Not so far from Longbourn there was a small outcropping of trees. As a child it had been a veritable forest to Lizzy. Now it was just a small sanctuary, it was well enough out of the way that no one ever thought to look there for her. It was Elizabeth's own personal hideaway from the world.

Setting down on the natural bench made of a tree that had grown right back into the ground, Lizzy wiped away tears that were born of the cold wind. Tipping her head back, Elizabeth stared up at the canopy of her little forest. The sun filtered through the leaves and snowy branches, birds twittered as they swooped between trees, singing joyfully despite the barren snow-filled landscape.

Franticness bled to peace as Elizabeth let her thoughts drift away and her mind became blissfully blank.

* * *

Almost as soon as Darcy and Charles entered Longbourn, they were set upon by the lady of the house. Charles was escorted to sit, and Darcy was studiously forgotten in the hall, only he had hoped for such an opportunity and was hardly put off. When the hallway was clear, Darcy stepped forward, not to follow Charles, but to another door, a door he knew quite well to be Mr. Bennet's hideaway.

Steeling himself, Darcy knocked on the half-open door. The older gentleman looked up and frowned.

"Sir," Darcy inhaled, "I was wondering if I may have a moment of your time."

Mr. Bennet's frown deepened, "I suppose you should, close the door."

Darcy didn't speak immediately, he chose instead to pace for a moment before his previously thought out words seemed to come more easily. "Mr. Bennet, it is my greatest desire to marry your daughter."

Mr. Bennet's brow quirked upward, "It may have escaped your notice, Mr. Darcy, but I have five daughters, perhaps you should be a little more specific."

"Elizabeth," Darcy slipped, "Miss Elizabeth, that is."

"My Lizzy," Mr. Bennet frowned once more, laughing in spite of the situation. "it is my Lizzy that you wish to marry?"

"Yes," Darcy responded vehemently.

"And what makes you believe I would allow this," Mr. Bennet scowled.

Darcy faltered, "Nothing."

Silence fell, and Darcy began to pace again, his heart racing frantically in his chest.

The older man's smooth, wry voice interrupted the younger man, "Lizzy is of the opinion that you could not possibly love her. Is she right?"

"No," Darcy spun quickly and spoke even more quickly. "I love your daughter with every fiber of my being. When I look to the future I cannot imagine it without her beside me, and when I think of the past I cannot fathom how I have existed without her for so long."

The impassioned plea, seemed to shock Mr. Bennet, he sighed and sat back in his chair. "She has no money, no real standing in society, and as her mother will tell you she is not the prettiest of the girls."

Darcy stalked forward, "I have money enough, she _is_ gently born, and I have long considered Elizabeth the handsomest woman of my acquaintance."

"And your family, they cannot possibly be accepting of such a woman, as my Lizzy," Mr. Bennet pushed.

"It doesn't matter," Darcy exclaimed. "I love Elizabeth, and I would gladly forsake everything I have, everything I am to spend one day as her husband!"

"I see," Mr. Bennet breathed. "And how do you intend to convince my stubborn Lizzy to marry you?"

Darcy's speech had quickly gone out the window, this however, this he had no answer to, planned or otherwise. "I have no idea."

Mr. Bennet chuckled and rose from his desk, "Lizzy thinks a little too much sometimes, if you want her to marry you, you had better keep her from thinking too hard or she may think herself out of being in love with you."

Darcy froze, his frantic mind stilling. "Are you, do you mean…"

A hand waved dismissively through the air, "You have my blessing, that is not the challenge here."

"Do you mean that Elizabeth loves me," Darcy asked softly, almost afraid of the answer he would get.

Mr. Bennet snorted, "From all that I have heard from Lizzy, I was convinced you were very sharp, perhaps Lizzy is more in love with you than I believed to exaggerate so."

Darcy took a step back. His body on fire, Elizabeth loved him, surely, or as sure as he could be without hearing it from her lips. The sigh of relief was all it took for the tension to drain from Darcy's body.

The door to the library slamming open forced the tension right back into Darcy's spine. Mrs. Bennet rushed in, laughing and sighing and squealing. She completely ignored Mr. Darcy and could only rush over to her husband.

"Oh Mr. Bennet," she sighed, "Mr. Bingley has invited us to stay and celebrate Christmas with him and his family!"

Mr. Bennet sighed, "And I suppose I have no choice in the matter, we are to spend Christmas with the Bingley clan, then?"

"Oh, Mr. Bennet," Mrs. Bennet exclaimed before stomping out of the room.

"Well," Mr. Bennet sighed, "I have a slight suspicion that you have a hand in this, Mr. Darcy."

Darcy coughed lightly before excusing himself from the library not wanting to be the subject of the man's ire, not when he had yet to secure Elizabeth's hand.

* * *

Stepping into the sitting room, Darcy searched for Elizabeth. She was conspicuously absent, Plato laying forlornly before the fire. Frowning, Darcy swallowed back his anxiety. Stepping over to Miss Kitty he sat down beside her and pretended to listen to the conversation.

As soon as the conversation became loud enough, Darcy turned to Kitty, "Where is you sister?"

Kitty shrugged, "I don't know, she left early this morning and hasn't come back yet. She's probably off walking."

Darcy blinked, his heart thumping heavily. Darcy had been almost certain that Elizabeth would be at home, especially as she hadn't been resting beneath the oak tree. "Where does your sister walk to?"

"As if you don't know," Kitty snickered.

"The only places I have met her are around Oakham Mount," Darcy admitted.

Kitty frowned, "Well Lizzy has always wandered all around Longbourn, I don't know all of the places she goes."

Nerves had Darcy fidgeting, wanting to race out of Longbourn and find Elizabeth. He knew that she had wandered most of her life, but Darcy worried, worried about Elizabeth being alone out there, in the cold, without even Plato for protection.

* * *

"_Confront a child, a puppy, and a kitten with a sudden danger; the child will turn instinctively for assistance, the puppy will grovel in abject submission, the kitten will brace its tiny body for a frantic resistance"_

_-H.H. Munro_

* * *

A/N: 21/25. For some reason I keep picturing Darcy playing Who Wants to be a Millionaire, desperately using his lifelines just to get to Lizzy. Ah well, life… Love you all, see you tomorrow!


	22. Mistletoe

Disclaimer: I do not own Pride & Prejudice, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar.

* * *

_22 December, 1811_

Darcy had spent much of the night looking out of his bedroom window. He had tried to fall asleep as usual, except his mind kept straying, worrying about Elizabeth. He had, earlier in the afternoon, gone out looking, he had walked further, and used Arcturus to try and find Elizabeth, but nothing had come of it. Part of Darcy had wanted to return to Longbourn and ensure that Elizabeth had returned. He couldn't, not without arousing suspicion.

Darcy would have his answer. He would be assured of her safety. Charles had ensured that Darcy would have that at least. He had enthusiastically invited Miss Jane, Miss Elizabeth, and Miss Kitty to luncheon. Darcy was anxious, he was furious. He was terrified that Elizabeth had endangered herself. That he hadn't been there.

At the moment, Darcy was standing in a second story window, watching, waiting for three figures to come walking up the drive. He had spent the morning watching Charles direct the stable-boys in decorating the house. There were boughs of holly wrapped around the railings, and mistletoe, Caroline's suggestion as it happened.

Caroline had been a whole other problem when Charles and Darcy had returned from Longbourn. Upon hearing that the Bennet clan would be residing at Netherfield for Christmas, Caroline had become a ball of anger, she had lashed out at her brother, yelling and crying as soon as Darcy had escaped the room. That was one small mercy. Caroline was entirely too determined to be perfect and sweet in front of Darcy, or as sweet as Caroline could pretend, to yell in front of him.

That left Darcy to seclude himself away from everyone, fingering the ring in his pocket and thinking about Elizabeth. He frowned, turning away from the window before turning back. Arcturus watched his master pace as he laid on the carpet. His master had been anxious for too long, he had been anxious when they were searching for the woman, he had tossed and turned in his sleep, and now he was just staring out the window, waiting for the lady. Arcturus wasn't exactly happy that she was missing. He too wanted to see her. She was kind and warm, and she knew the exact spot behind his ear that made his tail go crazy. That was all he needed to be happy, a nice mistress to play with him and to feed him sausage from her plate. Plato had certainly let that slip.

Arcturus wasn't quite aware why his master didn't just go and get what he wanted. That was all that needed to be said. All that needed to be done.

Suddenly Arcturus' master stopped at the window before stalking purposefully to the door. Rising from the floor, Arcturus paced to the window before racing after his master. _She _was here.

* * *

Elizabeth walked beside Kitty, their arms linked, Jane walking ahead of them. Elizabeth had spent hours and hours on end pacing and kicking at the snow only to become more frustrated with herself. She had been furious with everyone, and herself for, well, everything. It seemed like everyone was determined to make her miserable, she couldn't love a man who wasn't in love with her. She had always been determined to marry for only the most violent of love.

And so, Elizabeth would be indifferent. She would be polite and witty and sweet, but she would not let her heart beat any faster or her cheeks flush, she would not.

Smiling sweetly, Elizabeth nodded lightly as Kitty chattered about something or other. She was entirely too gleeful, perhaps it was because she had been invited along to luncheon and Lydia had not. Kitty was under no impression that she had been invited for any other reason except to keep Elizabeth company, and that was only because Mr. Darcy had likely suggested it. Jane was as happy as ever, as sweet as ever. She was thrilled to see Miss Bingley again, and her Mr. Bingley, and Mrs. Hurst too. She was almost oblivious to everything around her she was so in love.

* * *

Darcy stood in the foyer as Charles cheerfully greeted the three Bennet sisters. He let out a sigh of relief as he saw Elizabeth. She was safe, she looked unharmed, healthy. Arcturus who had been happily sitting beside Darcy raced forward and began to circle Elizabeth, nose in the air, tongue lolling, begging for attention. Elizabeth happily lavished attention on the dog, bending and running her hands along the dog's short coat. She was rewarded with desperate tail wagging and heavily lidded eyes.

Stepping forward, Darcy greeted Kitty and Jane before turning to Elizabeth. "I think someone has missed you."

Elizabeth rose and smiled at the man, "Arcturus is just a sweetheart who wants attention."

"He is a scamp," Darcy returned, "he knows exactly who will indulge him."

"And you never spoil him," Elizabeth's eyes narrowed.

Darcy scoffed, "Arcturus has my sister for that, and you."

"So you never slip him a little extra food as a treat, you never let him sleep on the end of the bed," Elizabeth pressed, one hand still scratching the dog in question.

Darcy coughed, trying to keep a straight face, "Certainly not."

"You are lying, Mr. Darcy, that is not a very kind thing to do," Elizabeth scolded. "I am sure Arcturus does not appreciate it either."

"You, Miss Elizabeth, I know spoil Plato," Darcy pointed out, "and he has a nasty habit of glaring at me."

Elizabeth shook herself, glancing past Mr. Darcy to where Kitty and Jane were being ushered into the sitting room, leaving Elizabeth alone with Arcturus and Mr. Darcy. "Perhaps, Mr. Darcy, Plato simply has a face I cannot say 'no' to."

"Then I think we had better not allow Plato and Georgiana to meet, we would be doomed," Darcy laughed easily, Elizabeth could only smile softly.

Extending his arm, Darcy happily escorted Elizabeth into the sitting room where she quickly took a seat beside Kitty. Darcy frowned, and instead of taking a seat beside Elizabeth as he had desired, he stood just behind the settee that the two ladies were seated upon.

"Here we are," Charles clapped his hands together firmly before handing Elizabeth a glass filled with mulled wine. Kitty and Jane were already sipping on their glasses.

Nodding in thanks, Elizabeth raised the glass to her lips and took a small swallow of the warm liquid. Glancing around the room, Elizabeth noted that Mr. and Mrs. Hurst were sitting and talking between themselves, Miss Bingley settled at the piano and projecting her voice across the room, calling to Mr. Darcy and her brother.

Elizabeth was happy enough to sit back and sip her wine, and try to ignore the presence of Mr. Darcy, who seemed entirely too settled in standing behind her. She shifted slightly under his gaze, she was sure he was watching her. There could be no other reason why her spine was tingling gently.

"Lizzy," Kitty asked sweetly, "what do you want most for Christmas?"

Elizabeth smiled and took another sip of the wine, enjoying the warmth that spread through her body, "I don't want anything but good health for our family and friends."

Darcy took that moment to step out in front of the couch and take a seat in the chair he moved with him, "You want for nothing at all, Miss Elizabeth?"

"No," Elizabeth agreed softly, "I am quite happy with my lot in life."

Kitty rolled her eyes, "Not even a new book, or a new hat, or dress?"

"No," Lizzy assured her sister lightly. "What is it you would like for Christmas, Kitty?"

Kitty frowned, Lizzy was being stubborn. "My own room! I am _so_ tired of sharing with Lydia."

Elizabeth hid her smile, "Mm, perhaps we could convince Jane to trade rooms with you. Jane might have just the disposition to deal with our youngest sister, what do you think?"

Kitty snickered, "I don't think even an Angel could put up with sharing a room with Lydia."

Darcy smiled, and set down his own glass of mulled wine, "And how long have you shared a room with you sister, Miss Kitty?"

Kitty sighed, "Years and years!"

"Well perhaps when one of your older sisters is married, you may claim one of their rooms," Darcy offered.

Kitty huffed, "That might take forever though."

Elizabeth sighed and smiled, "Not forever, Kitty. Perhaps just a little longer than you might like."

Kitty frowned, "Lizzy, do me a favor and get married will you, then I can have your room!"

Elizabeth nearly choked on her wine, only barely managing to swallow and keep her face straight. One eye strayed to Mr. Darcy who seemed a little too amused at her predicament.

* * *

When luncheon was served, the party left their drained glasses of wine and began the trek to the dining room. Charles and Jane lead the group, followed by Mr. and Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley, and Kitty who was skipping just ahead of Elizabeth who had been quickly relegated to Mr. Darcy's arm.

Bracing herself, Elizabeth took Mr. Darcy's arm, walking beside him, trying not to lean so heavily on the man. The wine had relaxed her quite well, and Elizabeth was struggling to remain indifferent. Her nerves and anxiety had faded with each sip of wine, and Elizabeth had caught herself watching Mr. Darcy, watching him watch her. She had, more than once, locked gazes with the man. Lizzy was even more unsettled than she had been at the start of this visit.

"I didn't see you yesterday," the low voice startled Elizabeth from her thoughts.

"I was out walking," Lizzy stammered.

Darcy slowed his pace, quickly falling behind the group, "I couldn't find you. I was worried, Elizabeth."

"You needn't have worried," Elizabeth offered.

Darcy stopped, he could not endure it, "I did worry, Elizabeth, I cannot help but worry about you, think about you."

Elizabeth frowned and glanced up at the man who had somehow drawn her closer. Before Elizabeth could say anything more, Darcy had leaned down, slanting his lips over hers, stealing her breath away. His lips pressed against hers warm, firm, but not forceful, it was beyond pleasant. Beyond anything she had dreamed or heard from more wanton ladies. Elizabeth was frozen, her lungs on fire, her whole body trembling as strong arms pulled her closer, fingers tangled in her hair. Her dark eyes slipped closed and her hands curled into fists in Mr. Darcy's shirt.

And then almost as quickly as Darcy, _Fitzwilliam_, had claimed her lips, he pulled back, his forehead resting against hers, the arm around her waist pulling her just a little closer. "I thought," he breathed softly, "we shouldn't buck tradition."

"What," Elizabeth panted, her mind drifting somewhere far away.

Untangling his fingers from her curls, Darcy reached above them, Lizzy's gaze following as he plucked a plump red berry from a cluster of mistletoe. Distractedly, Darcy thought that Georgiana would be all too pleased with him. This was just a very happy coincidence, too happy. Darcy carefully showed Elizabeth the berry, before pressing it into her right hand. And as she watched him, Darcy knew what he needed to do.

"Elizabeth," he brushed the hair away from her eyes, "You have become the center of my life, I cannot, I will not live another day without you, without being able to kiss you." Darcy pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of Elizabeth's mouth before pulling back, "I have loved you for weeks, Elizabeth please, put me out of my misery, please allow me to call you _my_ wife."

Elizabeth swallowed, her knees threatening to drop her to the ground, a tear slid down her cheek, and she half wondered if she were dreaming, if she hadn't fallen asleep from the wine. "Will you kiss me again, Mr. Darcy," she asked softly.

Darcy didn't need to be asked, he would gladly kiss her. He would gladly do anything she asked of him. Gently Darcy kissed her forehead, her cheeks, before he pressed his lips to hers, this kiss was different, it wasn't firm and passionate. It was slow, gentle. Sweeter than anything Elizabeth had experienced. She pressed up on her toes and moaned softly into the kiss.

When he pulled back this time, Elizabeth could only give him a shaky smile and nod, "Yes…yes, I will marry you."

Relief flooded Darcy as he pulled Elizabeth into a hug, burying his nose into her hair. One hand slid into his pocket and retrieved the ring he had carried constantly, and now he was thankful, he hadn't intended on proposing, but he couldn't be happier. Pulling back slightly, Darcy slid the ring on her finger, before kissing it.

"I love you," was the soft, unbidden admission, causing Darcy's heart to still.

"Truly," he begged.

Elizabeth nodded, and then he was kissing her again, his lips burning a trail of kisses from her lips to her neck, and shoulder, his arms holding her closely. Beneath the mistletoe Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam had been utterly forgotten just as they had utterly forgotten the world around them.

* * *

"_What this planet needs is more mistletoe and less missile-talk."_

_-Jerry Smith_


	23. Secret

Disclaimer: I do not own Pride & Prejudice, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar.

* * *

_22 December, 1811_

Arcturus stood before the doors to the dining room, waiting. His master was nuzzling his mate, perhaps a little excessively. Letting out a sharp woof, Arcturus stared pointedly at his master as he broke away from his mate. Arcturus barked once more before turning and looking pointedly at the door.

His master was clearly not getting the point that their secret moment would very quickly be interrupted if they didn't come to their senses. Arcturus lunged forward, racing over to his new mistress, if he was any judge at least. Scrambling across the carpeting, Arcturus wiggled his way between the couple, using his head to push Darcy away from Elizabeth.

They released each other just in time, as the dining room doors swung open and Charles stepped into the hall. He froze at the sight of his best friend watching Miss Elizabeth pet Arcturus. The dog in question was wagging his tail and moving quickly from side to side, playing every bit the anxious pup he had been once upon a time.

Taking another step forward, Charles smiled, "We were wondering if you had gotten lost."

"No," Elizabeth smiled, "perfectly fine, except this rascal decided to detain me, and Mr. Darcy kindly agreed to keep me company."

"Excellent," Charles beamed as Arcturus raced past him, ready to relax and stop covering for his master.

Darcy breathed a silent sigh of relief as Elizabeth slipped the ring into the pocket of her dress, as much as he was pleased that she was wearing that ring, he did not want to face an irate Caroline Bingley. Elizabeth it seemed was of the same mind because she gave him a little smile as she retook his arm and allowed him to lead her into the dining room.

Finding herself seated directly across from Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth had to hold the flush in her cheeks down. Just moments before Elizabeth had been thoroughly kissed by the man, and now she was supposed to sit and eat as if absolutely nothing in the world had taken place. That Ftizwilliam's hands were not warm and large and firm on her body, that she had not been pressed against him as closely as she could manage. Lizzy was expected to sit and talk politely when he was staring at her, and goodness was he staring.

Then she felt it, the cool leather of a shoe running across her stocking clad ankle. Lizzy's fork froze, before she set it down and took a sip of her wine instead. Surely she was imagining it, no, Elizabeth glanced at Mr. Darcy, and he was staring darkly right back at her. No, Mr. Darcy was certainly running his foot against her ankle, oh, and now Elizabeth was sure it was his ankle she was feeling. It should not have been possible. The table seemed too wide to manage such an interaction. Mr. Darcy, however, seemed to have impossibly long legs. Elizabeth found herself stretching her own legs out beneath the table despite what might be appropriate. Darcy's stare turned into a smirk as he turned and spoke to Charles.

Kitty turned to Elizabeth and smirked, "What took you so long? I was beginning to think you had run off again and left poor Mr. Darcy all alone."

"I," Elizabeth's breath hitched as the foot slipped higher under her dress, grazing her inner calf. "I am right here, and I have not run away, as you can see, Kitty."

Kitty sighed, noticing how Mr. Darcy continued to glance at her sister. "Oh alright, Lizzy, but you could at least try to run away and let me have your room."

"My apologies," Lizzy laughed nervously, "next time I fall behind for luncheon I will most certainly run away instead."

Kitty smiled brightly, "That is all I ask, Lizzy."

"Do you not thing, Mr. Darcy," Caroline sighed loudly from down the table, "that London at Christmas is unparalleled, simply the most beautiful, fashionable thing in the world?"

"It is true that Christmas in London has its charms, however, I find a countryside Christmas cures all ills," Darcy's eyes glanced from Miss Bingley to settle on Elizabeth.

Caroline sighed again, "Oh but the shops and the parties. And the spirit of town is so pretty, and you cannot deny that you would wish to be there, poor Georgiana must be desolate without us."

"Georgiana is not so desolate, and I am not so foolish as to wish to leave the countryside this Christmas," Darcy offered. "Georgiana is quite amused with our cousin at the moment, if her letters are anything to go by."

"Christmas is about family," Caroline continued, tossing a slight glare at the Bennet sisters.

Charles snickered, "Caroline were you not just rambling about the shops in town and how lovely that made Christmas?"

Kitty set down her fork and wiped her mouth delicately, "I think Miss Bingley is right, Christmas is about family," Darcy's brow rose at the comment. "That is why I am _so_ thankful that the families in Hertfordshire care so much for each other, we are one big happy family."

"Exactly," Charles nodded, "Miss Kitty you have it exactly right. That is why I am so happy to have your entire family spend Christmas with us this year, I cannot think of a better way to spend the holiday season that with those I care for."

"Nor I," Darcy concurred softly, his eyes lingering on Elizabeth's lips, "nor I."

Elizabeth blushed, one hand slipping down to her lap and into her pocket to curl around the delicate ring that Mr. Darcy had slipped on her finger, God how she loved that man.

* * *

Laying in bed that night, Elizabeth slipped the ring on her finger, a warmth spread through her and she could feel herself smiling. The soft glint of it in the candlelight was enough to make Elizabeth giddy.

By some silent agreement, Elizabeth and Darcy had remained hush about their engagement. Neither willing to break the silence and reveal their secret to the world quite yet. Darcy had managed to inform her that he had secured her father's consent, and sneak one more kiss before they parted. Elizabeth didn't mind, keeping her engagement quiet, she didn't need her mother getting herself in a tizzy or any chaos. All Elizabeth wanted to do was bask in the warmth that came from a very much requited love.

Slipping the ring off, Elizabeth turned on her side and brought the silver up to her face, kissing the band softly before she slid it on her finger once more. She stopped halfway as she noticed something she had not had the chance to before. There was an inscription on the inside of the band. Tears of joy flooded her eyes when she finally read those three words: "Love & Friendship".

That was all Elizabeth had ever desired in a marriage, in a partnership. She loved Fitzwilliam a little more in that moment.

* * *

_23 December, 1811_

The Bennet's arrived at Netherfield with a clamor that had rarely been seen before. Darcy thanked the lord for the noise and the hubbub because it made escaping to the outdoors a little easier. Elizabeth, not to be outdone, escaped just as easily, begging off to unpack in her room, she had snuck down the stairs and followed her husband-to-be.

Just outside the door Darcy caught Elizabeth around the waist and pulled her to him, stifling her gasp of surprise with a kiss. "Elizabeth," he breathed against her crown. "Oh Elizabeth I barely slept, I could only think of you."

"Mr. Darcy," Lizzy smiled up at him only to find him frowning.

"I beg of you to call me anything, Fitzwilliam, William, Will, anything but _Mr. Darcy_," he begged, tilting her head up to meet his and grazing his lips across hers. "I do not think I can bear the cruelty of the distance between us."

Elizabeth blushed. She had been calling him Fitzwilliam in her head, but she fell back to formality in conversation, Lizzy was ill-equipped to call him so familiarly. And so, she fell back on her wit, as always. "Fitz," she whispered against his cheek.

"That will not do," Darcy groaned as suddenly found himself cursing the name he had been given, a name he had always been proud of. "If you call me that, I shall think you have an eye for my cousin."

Elizabeth sighed, thinking hard, what felt natural. "Husband," she asked sweetly, "my Fitzwilliam."

Darcy's eyes slipped closed at that, "Yes, yours, my Darling Elizabeth."

Elizabeth smiled and for the first time, she pressed a kiss to his lips. "And how will you bear my calling you so formally in front of others?"

"I will not," Darcy shook his head slightly, hands sliding down Elizabeth's sides, fingers grazing places only a husband should know so intimately. "Each time you call me so formally you shall owe me a kiss."

"Then perhaps I shall aim to owe you a quite a lot of kisses," Elizabeth responded coyly before slipping from Darcy's hold and dancing across the snowy ground.

Giving in to his desire, Darcy started after Elizabeth. He was not yet willing to end this secret meeting and go back indoors. He was enjoying this entirely restrained side of Elizabeth. The way she slipped through his fingers and danced in the snow, and teased him so unmercifully. For Darcy, it was as if seeing her truly for the first time ever. He loved her more with each step she took and each sigh of laughter, each run-away curl and witty comment.

He caught her shortly, wrapping his arms around her from behind, his arms curled around her abdomen. Darcy rested his chin on her shoulder, gently kissing her neck as they stood secreted away in the shadows of Netherfield far from prying eyes. His fingers drifted from her hips to rest over her the softness of her lower belly, where he could only imagine his child growing one day in the near future.

"What shall we name our children," he asked softly as he stroked circles on her belly with his thumb.

Surprise sprung forth from Lizzy, his hands on her belly were causing a fire to be stoked beneath his hands, and she wanted nothing more than to stay right as she was forever. Children, that was the catalyst that had her on the edge of some precipice, she wanted desperately to kiss her husband-to-be. Struggling to maintain her sense of calm, Elizabeth breathed deeply before leaning her head away from Darcy's. Twisting slightly, Elizabeth turned so she could kiss the corner of Darcy's mouth. "Perhaps we should let your sister name them."

Lizzy could feel his laughter as if it were her own, rolling through her chest and stomach and being so wonderfully warm and deep.

"If we were to allow that," Darcy kissed her cheek, "then we will end up with a dozen children named Apple and Firefly and Snow."

Elizabeth repressed a giggle at the names, "And would you love our twelve children any different?"

"Thirteen," Darcy corrected, "a baker's dozen, and I shall not love any of them one whit less no matter how silly their names may be."

"Thirteen," Elizabeth breathed in laughter, quite enjoying the thought of a houseful of children, "I don't think I shall ever make it out of bed."

Darcy smirked, "I have no problem with this, for I think, I have become slightly obsessed, possessed, by the idea of you, Darling Elizabeth, being quite swollen with my children."

"Is that so," Elizabeth asked laughter curling in her belly as she laid her hands atop his.

"Yes," Darcy grinned, "I think it will be such a beautiful sight that I will never tire of it, and make it my life's work to be sure you are always quite filled with my child."

"Oh," Elizabeth scoffed, "is that so. I don't suppose I get any say in this plan?"

"Absolutely not," Darcy nodded, allowing Elizabeth to slip from him once more.

Elizabeth spun on her heel and took several steps back from the man she loved, one eyebrow arching delicately, amused, "Perhaps, Sir, you would have done better to keep that plan a secret."

* * *

"_The secret of happiness is having something meaningful to do, seeking purpose"_

_-John Burroughs quotes_

* * *

A/N: 23/25. Elizabeth and Darcy tend to get away from me…. Two chapters to go! Thanks for all the love, see you tomorrow, and Happy Holidays!


	24. Spirit

Disclaimer: I do not own Pride & Prejudice, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar.

* * *

_24 December, 1811_

Elizabeth woke to not one dog but two cuddling up to her. Scratching Plato's head absently, Elizabeth rolled over in the strange bed and scratched Arcturus' head as well.

"Good morning boys," she smiled. "How in the world did you get in here Arcturus, and where does your master think you have gotten off to?

Arcturus huffed softly and nuzzled his nose into Elizabeth's neck, happily closing his eyes once more. He had in fact taken advantage of the faulty latch and pushed his way in and nosed the door shut behind him. Arcturus had then happily climbed up and slipped into the bed beside Elizabeth, Plato happily sleeping on her other side. She was warm and she smelled good, Arcturus could really get used to this.

* * *

After slipping in and out of consciousness, Elizabeth finally woke and got out of bed. She was stalked by two dogs, each trailing happily behind her as she made her way downstairs. For once she had no need to wear layers and layers of clothing, it was nice and warm inside of the Netherfield house. Instead of long sleeves, Elizabeth had chosen to wear short sleeves and a nice warm shawl. It was nice to feel the heat of fire on her skin rather than the oppressive warmth of long sleeves.

As Elizabeth stepped into the dining room for the first meal of the day she heard Mr. Darcy speaking, "Arcturus wasn't in my room this morning, have you seen him?"

"No," Charles frowned, "do you suppose he is off hiding somewhere?"

Elizabeth covered her mouth and laughed softly, "I believe this belongs to you," she tipped her head down towards Arcturus who was standing beside her.

Darcy stared at his Elizabeth, she looked beautiful, radiant. And there, flanking her was a very familiar animal. "Where did you find Arcturus," Darcy asked.

"I didn't exactly find him, so much as he snuck into my room sometime in the night," Elizabeth answered easily. "Clever fellow even closed the door behind himself."

Darcy's eyes widened, he had only just managed to get Elizabeth to agree to marry him and his own dog had made much more progress in much less time. One night in the same house and Arcturus had wandered into her bed. Darcy had to suffer with stolen kisses and praying they would soon be wed.

"I see," Darcy smirked, "Arcturus can be very willful when he chooses to be."

Charles chuckled, "Much like his master, hm, Darcy?"

"Quite," Darcy shook his head, smiling, "Come here, Arcturus."

"He has spirit," Elizabeth smiled.

Darcy nodded, "I have a great love of spirited creatures." He clicked his tongue, once again attempting to call his dog.

The dog, instead of trotting to his master, sat down at Elizabeth's feet and leaned against her leg. Darcy nearly growled at that. Arcturus was mocking him. Elizabeth stepped away from Arcturus and sat down at the table quickly fixing herself a cup of tea. Almost as soon as she had taken the first sip of warm tea, Elizabeth found her feet buried under mounds of flesh and fur. Both Plato and Arcturus had settled themselves under the table and right on top of Elizabeth.

Charles snorted, "It seems you have a new suitor, Miss Elizabeth."

"I suppose I do, and isn't he a handsome fellow," Elizabeth laughed, exchanging a smile with Mr. Bingley.

"Darcy," Charles grinned, "it seems you may be losing a dog quite soon, if Arcturus' actions speak to his intentions."

Darcy frowned, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. "That," he responded lightly, thankful that it was only the three of them in the dining room at the moment, "assumes that it is not I who will gain Miss Elizabeth."

Elizabeth's eyes widened for a moment before she blushed, "So confident, Mr. Darcy."

"Rightfully so," Darcy smirked.

Charles snickered, and found himself on the receiving end of a glare from the newly arrived Caroline. "Charles, must you make such noise so early in the morning," she sighed airily.

"Caroline," her brother sighed, "relax, it is the holiday season, be happy!"

"I am happy," Caroline forced out, claiming a seat beside Mr. Darcy and throwing a scathing glare at Elizabeth.

"Mr. Darcy," she simpered, "I was hoping you might help me pick a book to read after our meal. I would not know where to begin, and I know you are quite the lover of books."

Darcy winced internally at the tone of Caroline's voice. "I am afraid I am otherwise engaged, I must take Arcturus for a walk after the meal." He paused before turning to Elizabeth, "Miss Elizabeth, would you like me to take Plato with me, I am sure he could use a little exercise today."

Elizabeth frowned, she had thought that perhaps that was an invitation for her, but she doubted he would offer to take Plato along with him if it had been. Shaking her head, Elizabeth grinned, "No, I think Plato and I shall go for a little walk ourselves."

Charles frowned at the conversation his friends were having. "Perhaps we should all go for a walk this afternoon, after luncheon?"

Caroline jumped on that, "Yes, that would be lovely, and then you might be able to help me pick a book, Mr. Darcy."

Darcy swallowed, sometimes his friend was very useful in providing an escape, but today, Charles seemed determined to leave Darcy in a pinch.

"Actually, I need to run a letter in to town, business, it has to get to London as soon as possible," Darcy sipped his coffee and scooted back from the table. "Arcturus?"

The dog grudgingly rose and slunk out from beneath the table and followed after his master.

* * *

As the day passed, Elizabeth spent much of her time knitting, sitting before the fire in her room, Plato at her feet. It was nice, and the longer she sat and knit, the less she actually knit, and the more she thought about it being Christmas Eve. She had not quite been in the spirit of the season. Too much had been happening for her mind to be set in the holiday mood.

Now Elizabeth found her mind drifting to the Yule Log and how she had loved sitting around the fire as a child, and later as a young lady with a glass of mulled wine and simply sitting in the company of her sisters.

Elizabeth wanted desperately to sit in the circle of Fitzwilliam's arms, to be warmed by him and not the wine.

Darcy scowled at his dog, Arcturus was being rather persnickety. "Elizabeth is mine," Darcy told the dog, feeling a little silly at having to declare such a thing to a dog. It was necessary, it seemed. Darcy was nearly boiling at the idea of his own dog curled up against his Elizabeth. It was simply not fair. He had the proper claim to her, he was engaged to Elizabeth, not his dog. As Darcy trekked into Meryton he became more and more like the bear Arcturus was named for guarding.

Arcturus was happily ignoring his master's furious glare and quick pace. He was too happy, too pleased with himself. The dog was smart enough to know that he had best sidle up to his new mistress and find a place in her heart before his master was able to throw him out into the cold for cuddling up to the lady. As it was, Darcy had little chance of ever ejecting Plato or Arcturus from Elizabeth's bed, and would quickly have to resign himself to sharing that bed with both his wife and their dogs. Darcy knew too well that Elizabeth would have none of his attempts to remove the dogs. That did not sit well with him, however, Darcy was simply not going to sacrifice his wife's happiness, and thus his own.

No, Elizabeth's happiness was his, and her misery would be his.

* * *

The after-luncheon walk had turned into a short tromp through the snow before it became too cold and too gloomy out to stay out for long. Once the party had returned in doors, the entire party including Mr. and Mrs. Bennet sat in the sitting room as the afternoon grew old.

Darcy, who had excused himself a little earlier, stepped into the sitting room only to find himself face to face with Caroline Bingley. Frowning, Mr. Darcy took a step back only to have the woman step forward.

"Mr. Darcy," she giggled, "what a position we find ourselves in."

Darcy quirked a brow and took a quick step around Miss Bingley, he was not so foolish as to allow himself to be caught by her, no matter how determined she may be.

"What position might that be," Kitty asked sweetly.

Caroline's temple throbbed, she had been so close. She could have staked her claim in front of that dreadful Elizabeth Bennet. She could be kissing Mr. Darcy under the mistletoe, Caroline could only blame the Bennet's. If they were not invading her home Caroline would have no problem ensnaring Mr. Darcy. Instead of answering the little girl, Caroline strode over to the sideboard and picked up a glass of wine and slumped into the settee beside her sister.

Darcy took the opportunity to take up the seat beside Elizabeth, and began to sip his wine. After several moments of silence he turned to her, "Where is Plato?"

"Taking his fourth nap of the day," Elizabeth chuckled. "And Arcturus?"

"I have absolutely no idea," Darcy smiled. "Although I can guess where he might be."

Elizabeth blushed at the suggestion, Darcy's low voice making her shiver.

"Are you cold," Darcy asked.

"No," Elizabeth smiled, "I am quite warm."

"Good," Darcy smiled, "although I must admit I would much rather keep you warm myself."

"Would you," Elizabeth raised a brow.

"Yes," Darcy murmured, "I think that I would rather nice, although I suppose I shall have to make sure that there are no fires set in the winter."

"I see," Elizabeth whispered, "So if you have your way I will be always pregnant and quite cold."

"Precisely," Darcy agreed, taking a drink from his glass, exuding triumph.

Elizabeth laughed lightly, glancing across the room to her sisters and Mr. Bingley who were crowded around the pianoforte and singing and laughing. Caroling, Elizabeth smiled. Yes, she was getting into the spirit of the season, well, except perhaps for Miss Bingley's little mistletoe stunt.

* * *

Dinner passed easily, everyone, except one Caroline Bingley_, _being in such a gleeful mood that no harsh words were spoken and no gloomy topics broached. After dinner the Yule Log had been brought in and Kitty had been given the honor of being the first to sit on the log. Lydia had pouted heavily, and Caroline and turned up her nose at the indignity of sitting on such a dirty piece of wood.

Elizabeth had been overjoyed at Kitty's excitement. She stood happily, easily feeling Mr. Darcy's presence behind her, as the fire was lit and more wine and port was doled out to the room's inhabitants. While Elizabeth was happy to just soak in the warmth of the fire and relax, slowly others began to retire, leaving Kitty, Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy and Charles to sit beside the fire. Elizabeth, frowned, knowing she should retire, as she could tell Charles wished to but could not because he was the host. Caroline had stomped off earlier after a quick rebuffing for her attitude, and Jane had retired after a less than convincing series of hidden yawns.

Kitty yawned and hugged her sister before retreating up the stairs, leaving Elizabeth and Darcy to exchange glances before Darcy too excused himself to the library to retrieve a book. Elizabeth and Charles followed suit, Charles retiring to his bedroom and Elizabeth gathering up her knitting, rejecting Charles' offer of help.

Before Elizabeth could leave the room, the door clicked closed and she spun to find Mr. Darcy smiling at her from the shadows. Elizabeth smiled broadly, her knitting slipping from her hands and onto the settee. The fire glowed warmly, making Elizabeth's eyes sparkle.

"Good evening," Darcy growled.

"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth breathed slowly.

"I think you owe me a great number of kisses now, Elizabeth," he smirked.

Elizabeth bit her lip as Darcy crossed the distance and dragged Elizabeth into his arms. He peppered kisses against her warm cheeks and light ones against her lips before he pulled back and began swaying with Elizabeth in his arms.

Swaying became a spirited, impromptu, dance across the sitting room. Elizabeth had to stifle her giggles as Mr. Darcy spun her like a ballerina, his hands curled around her waist.

Pulling Elizabeth closely, Darcy smiled into her hair, "I love you."

"And I you," Elizabeth murmured against his neck, her face tipped up to kiss his jaw. Elizabeth was very much in the spirit in this moment, she could want for nothing except to always be so happy.

* * *

_"Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmas-time."_

_-Laura Ingalls Wilder_

* * *

A/N: 24/25. I hope everyone is having a wonderful holiday, and enjoying the true spirit of the holidays and indulging in their inner child. Lots of Love, see you tomorrow for the final chappie.


	25. Surprise

Disclaimer: I do not own Pride & Prejudice, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar.

* * *

_25 December, 1811_

Darcy crept along the hallway in the dark of morning, the sun would be rising soon, but Darcy had woken with one thing in mind. Thankful for the abundance of wine that most had imbibed of the night before, it made sneaking slightly easier. Opening Elizabeth's door was too easy, the latch did not latch firmly, so it only took a mere push.

Darcy felt a thrill rush through his body, he shouldn't do this, he really shouldn't. But he couldn't help it. He so wanted to be beside Elizabeth, to coax her to wakefulness, and kiss her lips and hold her tight and to warm himself against her. He wanted to share their first Christmas morn, together from the very start.

Crossing the room Darcy knelt beside Elizabeth's bed, both Plato and Arcturus were both cuddled up against her, Plato on her feet and Arcturus laying beside her. Brushing Elizabeth's hair out of her eyes, Darcy pressed a kiss to her forehead. Elizabeth shrunk down further beneath her covers, Darcy couldn't help but smile, she was so sweet. She looked so innocent, so angelic with her eyes closed and a tiny smile on her lips. Darcy could only imagine what she was dreaming of, and goodness did he hope he was featured.

"Elizabeth," he whispered, ignoring the one eye that popped open and stared at him from the foot of the bed. "Elizabeth, wake up love."

"Mm," Elizabeth murmured sleepily, before she blinked slightly, her lashes fluttering lightly. As soon as her mind came to understand exactly what she was seeing Elizabeth's eyes opened wide.

"What are you doing in my room," she whispered quickly.

Darcy swallowed, engaged they may be, but this certainly qualified as taking liberties with her person. Perhaps it was a mistake, "Good morning."

Elizabeth smiled shyly from beneath her covers, this was certainly a surprise, and she wasn't quite sure if it was a good surprise or a bad one. "Good morning," Elizabeth whispered just as softly as Darcy had.

Darcy brushed his fingers through her loose hair, "I know this is highly…inappropriate, but I wanted to see you, this is our first Christmas together."

Elizabeth pulled the covers down and under her chin, "I suppose it is, Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," Darcy grinned, pressing his lips to Elizabeth's. "My Elizabeth, my beautiful wife," Darcy grinned.

Elizabeth bit her lip as she smiled, her eyes slipping closed in joy.

"It seems like I am a little late to the party," Darcy nodded to his dog whose paws were twitching in sleep.

Elizabeth nodded, "Yes, it seems so."

"Does that mean I am unwelcome," Darcy asked.

"No," Elizabeth blushed, finally taking in Mr. Darcy's apparel. He was without his waistcoat, and wore only his trousers and his shirt. Elizabeth swallowed dryly as she spotted the bare expanse of Mr. Darcy's chest and neck.

It was Darcy's turn to swallow as Elizabeth lifted herself up and leaned on her hand, the bedclothes slipping down her form, revealing a less than modest outfit. While Darcy had expected Elizabeth to be in her nightgown, seeing it was a whole other experience. The hand that had been stroking Elizabeth's cheek slid down to her neck, Darcy's fingers stroking her bare clavicle.

"It's still early," Elizabeth murmured eyes flitting to the darkness outside the window.

Darcy nodded, "It is."

Elizabeth scooted as far back as she could, Arcturus stopping her shortly. Darcy rose from his position beside the bed and settled against the headboard, toeing off his shoes and sliding his legs beneath the covers. Elizabeth settled against his chest easily, her eyes slipping closed as his arm came around her shoulders.

"You are very warm," Elizabeth murmured, inhaling deeply.

Darcy scooted down in the bed slightly, resting his chin on her head, "And this is a good thing?"

Elizabeth shifted slightly, pressing her body closer to his and the warmth he emanated. "Yes," was her only answer.

"Then I am overjoyed to oblige you, Darling," Darcy whispered.

Stretching slightly, Elizabeth was pleasantly surprised at how natural it was to lay with Fitzwilliam Darcy. It was the most relaxed Elizabeth had been in seemingly forever. She could perfectly see herself spending each morning just as she was.

Elizabeth sighed, smiling against Darcy's chest, "This is perfect."

"It is," Darcy agreed, Elizabeth's petite frame curled against him pulling him into the arms of sleep.

* * *

Darcy slipped out of Elizabeth's room before anyone else woke. He had honestly hated unwrapping Elizabeth's hands from his shirt and slipping her off himself. Elizabeth fit perfectly against him, her petite form entirely cradled by his body, their legs intertwining and heat melting through clothing.

Elizabeth had mourned the loss of Darcy's heat, and had not been able to fall back asleep, and so she had risen and curled up on the chair by the window. Elizabeth had never been so joyful, so happy in her life.

Once the sun rose and Elizabeth's solitude was interrupted by Kitty, she resigned herself to a day filled with screeching and laughter and Caroline Bingley.

"Come on, Lizzy," Kitty giggled, bouncing on Elizabeth's bed. "It is Christmas, everything is wonderful, and perhaps Mr. Darcy might kiss _you_ under the mistletoe instead of Miss Bingley kissing _him_!"

Lizzy bit her lip, fighting the blush that was sure to rise if she thought about that very, very, surprising and pleasant rendezvous beneath the mistletoe. "I don't think that is very likely," Lizzy lied, not quite sure how Kitty would take the news that her attempts to couple Elizabeth with Mr. Darcy were rather unnecessary.

Kitty frowned, "But Lizzy Mr. Darcy is very handsome, and kind, and he would make such a good husband, don't you think?"

Elizabeth nodded as absently as she could, forcing herself to re-fix her hair just so she wouldn't react to Kitty's comments. "Hm, we should head downstairs, or else Lydia may lay claim to your presents."

Kitty rolled her eyes, "You are avoiding the subject, but for now I will let it go, but this is very far from being over!"

Kitty stomped from the room, Elizabeth following with a small smile on her face.

* * *

The morning meal was filled with good cheer, even Mrs. Bennet could not scowl at Mr. Darcy, and Miss Bingley could only half-heartedly glare at Elizabeth. Charles was a ball of excitement, he was laughing and smiling and joking happily with anyone who would listen, primarily Jane. Elizabeth had spent the meal beside her father, talking quietly with him, acutely aware that her time with him was limited. Soon, hopefully, very, Elizabeth would share her life not with her family, but with Fitzwilliam, and it was his family, theirs that would become Elizabeth's life and joy.

It became very real in that moment, Elizabeth was engaged. She was to be married to someone she loved, she would not die cold and alone. Elizabeth would grow old with the man across the table from her, they would have children and watch them grow and learn. They would share so many firsts, and love so strongly that nothing, not even death, would separate them. Love was almost an inadequate term to describe what that life was born of. It was perfect happiness, perfect love, and perfect companionship. Elizabeth had no doubts, no fears. She was only anxious to at last call Fitzwilliam her husband and be called wife in return.

* * *

When the meal was over, and everyone drifted into the sitting room to exchange the few gifts that there were, Elizabeth drifted behind, Mr. Darcy taking her hand and escorting her. As soon as they were alone in the hall, Darcy pulled Elizabeth to him, kissing her lips gently.

"Will you wear your ring," he asked softly.

Elizabeth pulled the ring from her pocket and presented it to Darcy, holding it between two fingers, a small smile gracing her lips. Darcy plucked it from her fingers and slid it on her ring finger.

They both leaned in for one last kiss when they were interrupted by happy laughter, and Mrs. Bennet's distinctive cry, "Oh Jane! How happy you shall be!"

Elizabeth giggled, resting her forehead against Darcy's chest, "I think we can safely say that Mr. Bingley has finally found his courage."

"I think we can," Darcy smiled, "I suppose that means Charles and I will be brothers."

"That you will be," Elizabeth inhaled, "although this means we may never get any rest once my mother realizes that she has _two_ daughters on the brink of marriage."

Darcy smirked, "Well I shall endeavor to hurry our engagement along to save us both from that."

"Promise," Elizabeth looked up at the man.

"I do," Darcy intoned.

Elizabeth bit her lip, "I rather like the sound of that."

"Mm, as do I," Darcy grinned. "Once more unto the breach, Elizabeth."

"Shakespeare, Sir," Elizabeth quirked a brow as they entered the sitting room, going completely unnoticed in the commotion.

Sitting amidst a sea of paper and ribbon, Elizabeth collected as much of the ribbon as she could, braiding it together and setting it on Kitty's head only to have Lydia yank her hand forward.

"Lord, Lizzy," Lydia stared wide-eyed, "what is this?"

Lizzy's eyes went wide as she realized exactly what Lydia was screeching about.

Lydia was laughing heartily now, "_Lizzy_, is this an engagement ring, who could you possibly be marrying?"

Those words stopped the room. Elizabeth's sisters stared, Mrs. Bennet's heart was in her throat, and Caroline Bingley was in danger or having a fit.

"Marrying," Mrs. Bennet whispered in hope. "My Lizzy," she scurried across the room and snatched up her daughter's hand. "What is this, Lizzy, who gave you this?"

Mr. Bennet chuckled darkly, "Yes, Lizzy, who are you to marry?"

"You knew," Mrs. Bennet whirled on her husband, "you have given your blessing, but you, Mr. Bennet, who can Lizzy be engaged to?"

Kitty was staring at Darcy, silently willing him to betray himself. She _knew_ he was the man, only she wasn't quite sure _when_ he had found the courage to ask Lizzy.

"Yes, Mr. Darcy," Mr. Bennet spoke drolly, "who could possibly have asked for daughter's hand?"

"Mr. Darcy," Mrs. Bennet gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, no doubt imagining the pin money and the carriages and the clothes.

Lydia snorted, not bothering to cover her mouth, "Lizzy marry Mr. Darcy, what good a joke."

"Yes, a joke," Caroline rose from her seat, her voice rising in pitch with every second. "Haha," she forced a laugh, "what a good joke, Mr. Darcy could never possibly marry Miss Elizabeth Bennet!"

Gracefully, Darcy rose to his feet, "I am, actually, blissfully engaged to Elizabeth."

A content smile spread across Elizabeth's face.

Lydia stopped laughing, Caroline turned a rather spectacular shade of red and swayed on her feet before Mrs. Hurst helped her into a chair and gave her a very large glass of wine. Charles clapped his friend on the back, too happy to even question the man. Jane was happily congratulating her sister along with Mary while Kitty wrapped her arms around her sister in a tight hug.

"Oh Lizzy," Kitty giggled, "I am so happy for you!"

This was one surprise that could not be ill-received, except by a very select individual.

Mrs. Bennet laughed gaily, "Oh what a good surprise, Lizzy, dear, and you Mr. Darcy how charming!"

* * *

"I have a couple of gifts left to give," Darcy announced as soon as the uproar had calmed and Caroline had been escorted to her room before she could cause a new disturbance. He rose and left the room, quickly returning with a covered basket.

Settling the basket on Elizabeth's lap he glanced across the room to where Plato and Arcturus lay before the fire. Plato sat up, his ears twitching lightly, not exactly sure he would like what was to come.

Lifting the blanket up off the basket slightly, Elizabeth cooed softly at the sight within. Flicking the blanket off completely, Elizabeth reached into the basket and extracted a wriggling ball of black fur with a soft pink tongue that lapped at her fingers.

"He's gorgeous," Elizabeth kissed the Newfoundland puppy on the tip of his nose.

Darcy smiled and gently scratched the puppies head, "Merry Christmas, Elizabeth." He turned slightly to look at Kitty, "And you, Kitty, how would you like to come stay with Elizabeth and I after we are married?"

Kitty's face went blank for a split second before an ear-splitting grin took over her face, "Do you mean it?" Darcy nodded, and quickly found himself with an armful of Kitty, "Thank you so much! I am so happy!"

Elizabeth smiled at Fitzwilliam and at her sister. "Thank you," she told him, placing a quick, gentle kiss on his cheek. "What should we name him?"

"Snowflake," Darcy suggested.

Elizabeth smirked, "I like it, and I think Georgiana would too, Snowflake it is. How do you like that, precious? Snowflake."

Darcy could only smile and pet the puppy, his eyes locked on Elizabeth and how happy she was. Plato panted a little, bemused at the man who he supposed was to be his master. He had come through on his threat, at least partially. In truth, Plato didn't mind all that much, he was coming around to the man, if only for the sake of his mistress whose happiness was tantamount in his life. Dropping his head to his paw, Plato yawned and closed his eyes, things might turn out quite well, and, at the very least, he would soon be away from certain shrill voices, and he would have a new cohort, or perhaps two, if he could turn Arcturus, in tormenting a certain man.

* * *

Reclining on the settee, Fitzwilliam radiating heat at her side, Elizabeth cuddled her Snowflake, Plato and Arcturus at their feet. She was more than content, she was impossibly blissful. And Elizabeth couldn't help but think that the season's early snow had, perhaps, been a blessing in disguise, and a very good surprise.

* * *

"_The moments of happiness we enjoy take us by surprise. It is not that we seize them, but that they seize us."_

_-Ashley Montagu_

~The End~

* * *

A/N: 25/25. And so ends this tale. I appreciate all of the comments and love that you all have sent my way. I wish you all a wonderful end of the year, lots of love and warmth in the coming year.


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